CHIMMIE 
FAD DEN 

AND 

MR  PAUL 

EDWARD  -W-TOWNSEND 


, 


Chimmie  Fadden 

and 

Mr.  Paul 


Chimruie  and  Mr.  Paul. 


Illustrated  by  Albert  Levering 
•» 

Chimmie  Fadden 

and 

Mr.  Paul 


By 


Edward  W.  Townsend 


Printed  by  The  Century  Co. 
New  York       ....     1902 


Copyright,  1902,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Published  May,  1902 


Copyright,  1«11,,.1M>2.  »y 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


THE  OEVINNE  PRESS. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

i  FASHIONABLE  SPORTS 3 

ii  SOFT  SNAPS 17 

in  OF  L/AIGLON  AND  WOMAN  ....  31 
iv  THE  WIDOW'S  AUTOMOBILE  ....  53 

v  MR.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND  LEARNS  .    67 

vi  SENTIMENTS  AND  INCOMES    ....    79 

vii  A  DAY  OUT  WITH  DUCHESS    ...    93 

viii  A  TENEMENT  THANKSGIVING    .    .    .  107 

ix  A  STUDY  IN  PURPLE 121 

x  THE  HORSE  SHOW 133 

XI    AN   IRONING-BOARD   IN   POLITICS    .      .    145 

xii  WOMAN'S  CUNNING 159 

xiii  WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK  .    .    .175 
xiv  THE  HOUSE  PARTY  '. 189 

XV    AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 203 

xvi  EXCISE   AND    INTERNATIONAL    POLI 
TICS.  .  217 


M67475 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

xvii  A  CHRISTMAS  PLAY 231 

xvin  THE  STATUS  OF  WOMAN 245 

xix  A  FAMILY  SKELETON 259 

xx  AT  THE  OPERA 273 

xxi  A  DRAMA  AND  A  TRAGEDY  ....  287 

xxii  THE  WILY  WIDOW'S  RUSE  ....  301 

xxm  THE  LITTLE  DUKE  ARRIVES     .    .    .  315 

xxiv  CLASS  DISTINCTIONS 329 

xxv  SOME  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS  ....  343 

xxvi  KITCHEN  AND  OTHER  CABINETS    .    .  357 

xxvii  EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS  .371 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

CHIMMIE  AND  MR.  PAUL Frontispiece 

"  AT  DAT  DE  WHOLE  BAZOONUS  DANCED  DE 
COUCHY-COUCHY " 2 

"  'WHY  DON'T  YOU  GET  A  JOB  BOSSING  DE 
GOVERNMENT,'  I  SAYS" 16 

"  DE  DUCHESS  WAS  CRYING  WIT  RAGE  ....     30 
"WE  MAKE  HIM  A  PRESENT  OF  OUR  DUST"  .    .    52 

"AND  MAKE  DE  SWEETEST  COTILLION  LEADER 
CHIEF  OF  POLICE,"  HE  SAYS 66 

"C'EST  TOUT  UN  DRAME"!  "I  RUNNED  ME  LEGS 
OFF  GIVING  IT  EXERCISE" 78 

".  .  .  AND  LEAVES  KEL  WONDERING  WEDDER  IT 
WAS  YESTERDAY,  TO-DAY  OR  TO-MORROW "  .  92 

MRS.  MURPHY'S  MIGHT  ...  OR  ...  THE  BAL 
LADE  OF  MARTIN  HALLIGAN'S  AUNT  .  .  .  106 

THE  EFFECT  OF  PURPLE  ON  WINE  AND  WIDOWS  120 

"DE  HUNTER  CLASS  is  SHOOTING  ROUND  DE 
RING  AND  DE  HIGH  JUMPER  CLASS  is 
NEAR  GUTTER  SIGHT" 132 

"  PAUL,  DRINK  UP  !    CHAMES,  GET  OUT  ! "  .    .    .  144 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"I  'LL  TANK  YOU  TO  LEARN  HIM  HOW  TO  OPEN 
IT" 158 

"AND  HAD  TO  CHASE  DERE  AND  SQUARE  TINGS 
WIT  DE  CHIEF" •  174 

"  DEY  WAS  N'T  SAYING  A  WOID" 188 

THE  ROSELEAF  BALL 202 

"GET  BUSY,"  HE  SAYS,  "OR  I  'LL  CHOP  YOUR 

HEAD  OFF" 216 

"WHO  'LL  DO  ME  PART?"  I  SAYS 230 

"AND  DE  MAN  SHE  MAKES  DAT  HOME  FOR  SITS 
DERE  ALL  NIGHT,  GAMBLING  !  " 244 

"WELL,  DAT  'S  DE  WAY  I  FELT  WHEN  DUCHESS 
SAYS  DOSE  WOIDS" 258 

SYMPATHY 272 

"  YELLED  '  HOCK  DE  GEEZER  ! '  ENOUGH  TIMES  TO 

SHOW  I  WAS  WIT  DE  JOLLY" 286 

"  FOR  ABOUT  'STEEN  MINUTES  I  WAS  DE  BUSIEST 

TING  DAT  EVER  BUZZED" 300 

"YOUR  HONOR   COULD  N'T  KEEP  BETTER  COM 
PANY,"  SHE  SAYS  TO  WHISKERS 314 

"ALAS!"     SAYS    MR.    PAUL:     "ALAS!     POOR 

CHARLES  ! " 328 

HYPATIA  DISTURBING  HERSELF 342 

THEORY  OF  THE  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  PEOPLES  .  356 

"DE   CENTER   OF   GRAVITY   HAS   MOVED   FROM 
GREECE  TO  BOSTON    .     .    0    .    °    .    .    .    .  370 


FASHIONABLE   SPOETS 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND 
MR.  PAUL 


FASHIONABLE   SPORTS 

HELLO,  boss!  It  's  a  long  time  I  don't 
see  you. 

We  is  all  stopping  down  to  Newport, 
now;  except  dat  Duchess  and  me  chases  up 
to  little  old  Manhattan  now  and  den  to  see 
does  de  cars  still  run  bote  ways  on  de  Bow 
ery.  Miss  Fannie,  wit  Little  Miss  Fannie, 
comes  up  to  see  is  de  shops  selling  dollar 
bills  for  ninety-eight  cents;  Whiskers  and 
Mr.  Burton  slides  up  to  see  if  common  is 
preferred  in  Wall  Street ;  and  Mr.  Paul  runs 
in  to  make  sure  his  club  buys  enough  ice  to 
put  a  chill  on  a  small  bottle. 

Listen;  de  best  ting  about  living  out  of 
New  York  is  dat  you  have  New  York  to 
come  to.  If  it  was  n't  for  dat  I  'd  give  up 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

me  job  wit  Whiskers  and  go  to  woik  for  a 
living— sell  evening  poipers  to  Brooklyn 
gents  to  put  'em  to  sleep  in  de  Bridge  cars. 
.  .Let  me  tell  y:ou :  Whiskers  has  a  house  to 
Newport'  wli'at  '•'&  near  as  big  as  Mr.  Wal- 
dtir-f ?s  'Hotel,  ;biit  we  calls  it  a  " cottage. " 
I  says  to  Duchess,  I  says,  "Duchess,  why 
does  we  call  dis  a  cottage,"  I  says,  "when 
it  takes  twenty  hired  goils  and  men  to  run 
it!"  I  says. 

'  *  If  we  did  n  't  call  it  a  cottage, ' '  she  says, 
"how  would  we  know  we  was  living  in  de 
country?  And,  besides,"  says  she,  "it  is 
bourgeoisie"— dat  's  a  boid  of  a  woid;  get 
it  spelt  right— "it  is  bourgeoisie  to  live  in 
a  'mansion,'  '  she  says. 

Dat  was  a  dead  ringer  on  me,  dat  *  *  bour 
geoisie,"  so  I  asks  her  what  it  was.  She 
says  she  could  explain  it  only  in  French, 
and  I  was  not  next  to  French  close  enough 
to  tumble.  So  I  asks  Mr.  Paul. 

Say,  honest,  dere  ain't  notting  Mr.  Paul 
don't  know.  Sure.  He  even  knew  why  de 
Newport  golf  toinament  only  let  in  players 
4 


FASHIONABLE    SPORTS 

by  invitation.  Dat  's  right,  'cause  I  asks 
him  dat,  too. 

"It  's  like  dis,  Chames,"  he  says:  "if  our 
golf  toinament  here  let  in  any  old  player 
what  came  along  de  pike,  dey  would  lift 
our  cups  in  a  spritely  and  disrespectable 
manner, ' '  he  says.  * '  If  we  did  n  't  limit  our 
games  to  invitation  players  some  rude-fisted 
young  man  wit  not  more  dan  a  million  dol 
lars  to  his  name,"  he  says,  "would  enter 
de  toinament  and  sock  de  gutter-percher  all 
over  de  lot  for  a  score  dat  would  make  Coi- 
nel  Bogey  trun  a  fit  in  his  grave,"  he 
says. 

"No,  Chames,"  he  says,  "we  must  not 
let  any  horny-handed  child  of  nature  who 
never  wore  a  bangle  on  his  ankle  nor  led  a 
cotillion,  but  who  can  drive  two  hundred 
yards  and  putt  fifteen,  enter  our  push  and 
swipe, ' '  he  says, ' '  and  swipe  de  chalice  from 
de  fair  fingers  of  a  home  player  who  pun- 
gled  de  long  green  to  pay  for  dat  chalice. 

"No,  Chames,"  he  says,  "self-protection 
is  de  foist  law  of  Willie.  Our  golf  cups 
5 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

must  be  presoived  for  players  who  go  over 
de  links  folleyed  by  deir  valets  carrying 
fans,  parasols,  and  smelling-salts.  We  want 
no  large-handed  youts  wit  brown  arms  and 
vulgar,  broad  backs,  hiking  to  and  fro,"  he 
says,  "over  our  fair  greens,  forty-one  out 
and  toity-nine  in;  we  want  no  ten-up-and- 
eight-to-play  lads ;  no  two-to-de-green  boys 
giving  us  de  merry  'ha-ha,'  and  parting  us 
from  our  silverware.  Nay,  nay,  Pauline," 
he  says.  ' '  Nay,  nay,  while  de  invitation  list 
holes  out  to  boin,"  he  says. 

Mostly  Mr.  Paul's  woids  don't  mean  not- 
ting,  so  I  sometimes  change  his  langwudge 
to  sound  as  straight  as  me  own. 

Well,  as  I  was  telling  you,  I  asks  Mr.  Paul 
what  was  dat  Dago  woid  de  Duchess  passed 
me  out,  dat  "bourgeoisie."  For  a  little 
while  he  was  as  tautful  as  de  bull  pup  when 
it  watches  a  toad  in  de  garden,  den  he  says : 

"De  bourgeoisie,  Chames,  is  people  we 

do  not  invite  to  our  houses— because  dey 

don't  want  to  get  into  our  set,"  he  says, 

"and  whose  married  women  do  not  consider 

6 


FASHIONABLE   SPORTS 

a  chance  to  marry  number  two  sufficient 
grounds  to  divoice  number  one, ' '  he  says. 

"De  distinguishing  trait,"— dose  was  his 
very  woids !  Is  dey  corkers  f  What ! — "  de 
distinguishing  trait  of  de  bourgeoisie  is  dat 
dey  never  don't  get  deir  names  in  de  poi- 
pers.  It  is  proof  of  how  low-minded  a  bour 
geois  is  dat  he  frequent  lands  a  swift  kick 
on  de  poisson  of  a  yellow  newspoiper  man 
who  wants  to  see  his  daughter's  trousseau. 
De  bourgeoisie  is  common-minded  folks," 
he  says,  "who  pays  deir  taxes,  builds 
churches,  minds  deir  own  business,  and 
don't  know  wedder  a  ottermobile  is  loaded 
at  de  muzzle  or  de  breech. 

"Have  netting  to  do  wit  'em,  Chames," 
he  says,  "unless  you  happen  to  be  president 
of  a  bank  dat  needs  a  few  millions  to  help 
it  over  a  tough  proposition,"  he  says. 
"Den  make  a  loud  holler  for  a  bunch  of  'em, 
for  dey  is  most  helpful  in  foist  aid  to  de 
financial  injured." 

Mr.  Paul  uses  long  woids  to  give  him  a 
toist— dey  is  hot  stuff. 
7 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

Say,  dose  ottermobiles  he  was  telling  of 
is  hot  stuff,  too.  Whiskers  got  one.  Hark: 
he  bought  it  in  Paris  for  a  billion  francs, 
which  is  near  as  much  as  ten  tousand  Ameri 
can  plunks.  It  cost  him  dat  to  bring  it 
over,  and  a  French  mug,  called  a  ' l  shuffer, ' ' 
came  along  to  run  it,  and  he  cost  as  much 
more.  When  we  got  it  up  to  de  cottage  it 
looked  like  a  cross  between  a  fire-engine 
and  a  steam-roller. 

Well,  everyting  was  ready  for  a  start;  de 
shuffer  was  up  on  de  snuff,  Whiskers  was 
on  de  back  seat,  and  he  asks  Miss  Fannie 
to  take  a  ride  wit  him.  She  says  she  has  a 
bad  headache,  so  he  asks  for  Little  Miss 
Fannie  to  go  wit  him.  At  dat  Miss  Fannie 
grabs  de  kid,  runs  in  de  house  wit  her,  and 
locks  herself  in  de  noissery.  Den  he  asks 
Mr.  Paul,  and  Mr.  Paul  says  he  has  to  go 
and  kick  a  yellow  dog.  Den  he  asks  Mr. 
Burton,  and  Mr.  Burton  says  he  has  to  go 
to  de  dentist. 

Whiskers  looked  hard  at  de  gents,  what 
was  bote  smiling,  and  den  he  says  to  me, 


FASHIONABLE    SPORTS 

"Chames,  jump  up  on  de  seat  wit  de  shuf- 
fer,  and  we  '11  show  dese  faint  hearts  what 
fine  sport  it  is,"  he  says. 

Say,  I  '11  pass  it  out  to  you  honest,  I 
had  n  't  lost  no  ottermobiling ;  but  dat  shuf- 
fer  had  been  trying  to  get  gay  wit  Duchess, 
and  I  could  n't  take  a  bluff  before  him,  so 
I  gets  onto  de  front  seat,  and  was  strapped 
down. 

Well,  de  shuffer  moves  a  lever,  and  some- 
ting  in  de  belly  of  de  machine  began  whiz 
zing  like  a  hurry-call  ambulance.  But  we 
did  n 't  start. 

"Dere  's  a  head  wind,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"De  mainsail  don't  fit,"  says  Mr.  Burton. 

Shuffer  gets  down  wit  a  crank,  and  gives 
someting  a  twist  in  de  side  of  de  machine. 
Den  he  kicked  it  in  de  ribs,  and  she  began 
spitting  blue  fire  and  coal  oil.  Shuffer  gives 
someting  else  a  whack— and  we  was  off  like 
we  'd  been  shot  out  of  a  chute. 

But  shuffer  was  left ! 

"Stop  her!"  yells  Whiskers. 

I  kicked  a  steel  bar  wit  me  feet,  and  we 
9 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

stopped  suddent.  Whiskers  dived  against 
de  front  so  hard  his  bonnet  was  jammed 
down  over  his  chin. 

Just  den  we  began  going  back  as  fast  as 
we  'd  gone  foreward.  I  kicked  anodder 
lever  and  turned  a  wheel.  At  dat  de  whole 
bazoonus  danced  de  couchy-couchy,  and  be 
sides  de  flames  and  oil  dere  was  smoke  and 
smells  coming  from  de  inside. 

' '  Port  your  helm,  Chaines !  Luff  her,  luff 
her! "yells  Mr.  Paul. 

"Ready  about!  Lower  your  peak  and 
jibe  de  spinnaker,"  cries  Mr.  Burton. 

De  shuffer  tore  his  hair  and  jabbered 
French  to  beat  Duchess. 

I  got  right  in  it  den.  I  gives  a  slide,  a 
twist,  or  a  toin  to  everyting  dat  would  move, 
and,  say,  tings  was  gay,  for  fair.  Foist  we 
waltzed,  next  we  bucked,  den  we  spun  round 
like  a  top,  and  all  de  time  Whiskers  was 
making  a  holler  tru  his  hat  to  beat  a  steam 
fog-horn;  shuffer  was  weeping  and  swear 
ing,  and  de  gents  on  de  sidewalk  was  telling 
me  to  sit  tight  and  I  'd  win  de  race  in  a  walk. 
10 


FASHIONABLE   SPORTS 

But  she  would  n't  walk.  I  toined  every- 
ting  to  once.  She  stood  up  on  her  hind 
wheels  and  pawed ;  on  her  front  wheels  and 
kicked;  did  a  kangaroo  hop,  scooted  round 
like  de  bull  pup  after  its  tail,  and  at  last, 
when  dere  was  so  much  steam,  smoke,  oil, 
fire,  dust,  you  could  n't  see,  she  took  a 
header  and  landed  upside  down. 

Well,  say,  I  was  broke  to  pieces,  but  what 
hoit  me  most  was  trying  not  to  laugh  at 
Whiskers.  When  dey  pulled  him  out  of  his 
hat  his  langwudge  was  so  beautiful  I  had 
to  holler  like  I  was  killed  to  hide  me  laugh. 
By  de  time  de  doctor  had  stitched  and  plas 
tered  us  a  constable  came  and  arrested 
Whiskers  for  driving  a  ottermobile  too  fast, 
and  he  had  to  pungle  toiteen  dollars  and 
toity-five  cents,  fine  and  cost.  Dat  's  right. 
Late  dat  night  Whiskers  took  me  out  to  de 
stable,  and  give  me  a  big  hammer. 

"Get  busy,  Chames,"  he  says.  "Get  to 
woik." 

Wit  dat  he  gives  de  mobile  a  smash— and 
de  next  morning  it  was  took  away  by  de 
11 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

junk  man.  Whiskers  is  a  coy  old  sport 
mostly,  but  Carrie  Nation  is  a  boarding- 
school  goil  alongside  him  when  he  gets  his 
dandruff  up.  He  's  gone  back  to  steam 
yachting  since  den. 

But,  say,  now  dat  Sir  Tummis  has  took  a 
steady  job  of  trying  to  lift  de  cup  we  is  get 
ting  too  much  of  dat  yachting  game,  for  de 
salt  air  gives  de  gents  toists  like  de  inside 
of  a  empty  salt-barrel,  and  I  has  to  pull  de 
plugs  from  de  pints.  I  told  Mr.  Paul  I 
wished  Sir  Tummis  would  stop  to  home  or 
somebody  would  give  him  a  cup,  and  let  it 
go  at  dat. 

"  You  is  not  on  to  de  reason  of  Sir  Turn- 
mis  's  visit,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Sir  Tum 
mis,"  he  says,  "is  trying  to  do  by  a  jolly 
what  de  British  tried  to  do  by  a  scrap  a  hun 
dred  and  twenty-five  years  ago,  or  more," 
he  says. 

So  I  says,  "What  was  doing?"  I  says. 
"Dere  was  no  America's  cup  den,"  I 
says. 

' '  Yes,  dere  was, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul—' '  Amer- 
12 


FASHIONABLE   SPORTS 

ica's  tea-cup,"  he  says.  "De  British  drink 
tea— we  drink  coffee— and  since  dat  Boston 
tea-party  dey  has  never  give  up  de  hope 
of  making  us  buy  tea,  and  de  kind  dey 
buy." 

"But,"  I  says,  "what  has  Sir  Tummis 
to  do  wit  tea  ? " 

' '  Hush,  Chames ! ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  Dat 
is  a  delicate  subject,  not  to  be  discussed  in 
public.  Sir  Tummis  don't  want  de  cup.  If 
he  taut  he  had  as  much  chance  of  winning  it 
as  a  man  wit  tallow  legs  has  of  standing 
well  wit  Satan,  he  'd  set  his  fin-keel  cross 
wise  before  de  race. 

"No,  Chames,  so  long  as  we  keep  de  cup 
Sir  Tummis  can  keep  coming  for  it,  and 
more  and  more  Americans  will  learn  what 
a  good  ting  a  certain  brand  of  tea  is.  Say 
netting  of  dis,  Chames,  or  you  '11  shock 
many  good  Americans  who  love  Sir  Tum 
mis— in  spite  of  de  handle  to  his  name— 
so  hard  dey  sits  up  nights  to  tink  about 
it." 

I  asked  Duchess  what  Mr.  Paul  meant 
13 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

by  dat  string  of  talk,  and  she  said  lie  had 
no  respect  for  titles,  and  was  no  better  dan 
a  bourgeois. 

On  de  level,  when  I  gets  a  ting  explained 
by  bote  Duchess  and  Mr.  Paul,  I  am  worse 
mixed  dan  a  Conev  Island  cocktail.  See? 


14 


IT 

SOFT  SNAPS 


1  "Why  don't  you  get  a  job  bossing  de  government,'  I  says." 


II 

SOFT   SNAPS 

YOU  'RE  on  dat  Duchess  is  Miss  Fan 
nie 's  maid,  and  I  'm  valet  for  Mr. 
Burton,  Miss  Fannie 's  husband.  Well,  if 
any  of  de  odder  hired  hands  tries  to  jolly 
Duchess  to  toin  a  finger  outside  her  job  dey 
has  to  guess  again.  She  's  as  haughty  as 
de  actress  what  plays  de  Venturess  when 
any  one  tries  to  flim-flam  her  into  doing 
stunts  off  her  beat. 

She  gives  me  de  arched  eyebrow  because 
I  gets  busy  at  any  old  kind  of  a  job  around 
de  house.  "You  is  footman  for  Miss  Fan 
nie,  ' '  she  says,  ' '  steward  for  Whiskers,  and 
butler  for  Mr.  Paul— what  's  only  a  visitor 
at  our  house,  at  dat— cspece  d' idiot!"  she 
says.  When  Duchess  slangs  me  in  forn 
langwudge  I  just  says  to  her,  "Rubber!" 
2  17 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

See?  She  can't  talk  back  den,  and  if  she 
can 't  talk  she  truns  fits.  She  's  French,  and 
not  up  to  de  fine  points  of  American  talk, 
so  when  I  hands  out  "Rubber!"  to  her,  I 
can  count  ten,  and  she  's  still  out.  Easy! 

Well,  I  has  been  waltzing  about  in  brown- 
stone  society  for  years,  now,  but  dere  is  one 
ting  I  can't  get  wise  on.  Dat  is,  how  a  loidy 
can  be  sister  to  a  mug  what  ain't  her  brod 
der? 

I  asks  Duchess  about  dis,  and  she  laughs 
and  says:  "Upon  a  soitain  occasion  sen 
timental" —when  she  tries  to  talk  big  she 
always  gets  de  horse  before  de  cart.  '  *  Upon 
a  soitain  occasion  sentimental,"  she  says, 
' '  Mamzelle  Fannie  promise  to  be  a  sister  to 
M'sieu  Paul,  and  M'sieu  Paul,"  she  says, 
"being  a  young  man  of  sentiments  agree 
able,  is  trying,"  she  says,  "to  help  Mam 
zelle  Fannie  to  keep  her  woid  by  being  a 
brodder  to  her." 

'  *  But, ' '  I  says,  * '  he  ain  't  her  brodder  for 
fair, ' '  I  says.  ' '  Whiskers  has  no  son. ' ' 

' '  You  forget,  Chames, ' '  she  says.  * '  Brod- 
18 


SOFT    SNAPS 

ders,  like  marriages,  is  made  in  heaven," 
she  says. 

So  I  says  to  meself  I  'd  pipe  off  Mr.  Paul 
de  next  time  he  comes  to  our  house,  and  see 
could  I  cop  de  game. 

Well,  de  next  time  he  chases  in  dey  was 
all  holding  down  easy-chairs  in  de  library, 
where  dey  mostly  hangs  out— "Whiskers, 
Miss  Fannie,  Mr.  Burton,  and  Mr.  Paul- 
when  no  odder  company  has  came.  I  was 
dere,  putting  two  lumps  of  sugar,  six  cloves, 
someting  else,  and  some  hot  water  on  top 
of  dat,  into  de  gents'  glasses,  and  rubbering 
quietly  like  a  cat  in  a  butcher  shop. 

"Good  evening,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Can 
a  weary  pilgrim  rest  a  while  in  dis  humble 
tent?"  he  says. 

' * Soitenly, ' '  says  Mr.  Burton,  "if  de  pil 
grim  has  his  scrip  wit  him,  as  well  as  his 
staff,  and  will  take  a  hand  at  bridge,"  he 
says,  wit  a  wink  at  Whiskers. 

"Oh,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "I  has  me  stuff,  as 
well  as  me  staff,  and  shall  sit  in  at  bridge, 
if  you  say  so.    But,"  he  says,  "it  would  be 
19 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

quicker  relief —and  less  trouble— to  trun  me 
scrip  on  de  log  fire, ' '  he  says. 

Mr.  Burton  looked  as  tickled  as  if  he  'd 
told  himself  a  funny  story;  and  Mr.  Paul 
looked  pleasant  too,  dough  what  he  said  was 
no  joke.  If  I  had  de  sweet  long  green  what 
Mr.  Burton  win  from  Mr.  Paul  at  whist  I  'd 
race  yachts,  or  run  for  Mayor.  I  'd  he 
ashamed  not  to. 

I  suppose  Mr.  Paul,  being  Mr.  Burton's 
made-in-heaven  brodder-in-law,  don't  hold 
his  cards  as  close  to  his  chin  playing  wit  him 
as  he  does  mostly.  Loidies  and  gents  plays 
nearly  de  same  games  in  de  Diamond-back 
district  as  dey  does  on  de  Bowery— but  de 
rules  is  different. 

"Really,  Paul,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  pip 
ing  him  off  in  a  sisterly  way,  "you  do  look 
wearied.  What  has  you  been  doing?"  she 
says. 

"Paul!"  says  Whiskers,  giving  de  angry 
eye.  "Has  you  been  playing  Wall  Street 
again ! ' ' 

"Woise  dan  dat,"  says  Mr.  Paul.     "I 
20 


SOFT    SNAPS 

has  been  excising  me  mental  factory— 
What's  dat?  "Faculties"!  Dat  's  right; 
dat  's  what  he  says— "me  mental  faculties/' 
he  says,  "to  find  some  game— in  or  out  of 
Wall  Street— dat  I  has  not  played  out.  Dis 
is  a  hard  life,  and  a  hard  woild  to  live  it 
in, ' '  he  says. 

"It  is,  indeed,"  says  Whiskers. 
"Chames,"  he  says,  "tell  Perkins"— dat  's 
de  butler— "we  shall  want  a  little  supper 
at  eleven.  Dere  's  a  cold  partridge,  is  dere 
not,  Fannie?  and  some  broiled  ham;  and, 
Chames,  a  bottle  or  two  of  de  Special  Vin 
tage." 

"It  is  a  hard  life,  indeed,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
as  I  set  de  card-table  for  'em. 

I  guess  dat  is  n't  no  joke,  for  Mr.  Paul, 
de  odder  day,  was  kicking  about  how  hard 
he  had  to  woik  to  find  someting  to  do  dat 
he  had  n't  done  already,  and  I  says  to  him, 
I  says,  "Excuse  me,"  says  I,  "but  wit  a 
political  drag  as  strong  as  you  have,"  I 
says,  "why  don't  you  get  a  job  bossing  de 
government?"  I  says. 
21 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"I  has  already  taut  of  dat,  Chames,"  he 
says.  ' l  But, ' '  says  he,  ' i  me  ambition  to  soive 
me  country  and  me  flag,"  he  says,  "would 
be  satisfied  only  if  I  could  boss  two  gov 
ernments,  in  de  Diplomatic  Department." 

When  Mr.  Paul  has  his  long-woid  stop 
pulled  out  I  has  only  to  fetch  a  pint  to  keep 
him  tuned  up  to  G.  So  I  fetches. 

He  looks  at  de  fizz  like  he  was  sprised  to 
see  it,  and,  putting  a  timbleful  into  his  face, 
he  says :  "  If  ever  I  should  find  meself  strong 
enough  to  woik,  Chames,"  says  he,  "I  'd 
ask  me  friend  de  President  of  Washington 
to  make  me  foreman  of  de  Diplomacy  De 
partment,  U.  S.  G.,"  he  says.  "Me  serial 
and  studious  nature  would  find  congenial 
employment  as  Sectary  of  State.  He  is  de 
international  jollier:  tree  falls  out  of  five 
lifts  de  Cup ;  in  case  of  war  de  referee  sig 
nals  *  no  race. ' 

"I  once  went  down  to  Washington,"  he 

says, '  *  for  to  get  a  line  on  de  job,  and  having 

me  union  card  in  me  jacket  de  Sectary  lets 

me  sit  down  in  his  office  to  rubber  de  game. 

22 


SOFT    SNAPS 

De  foist  mug  to  come  to  de  bat ' '  —  sometimes 
I  has  to  put  Mr.  Paul's  foolish  langwudge 
into  straight  talk— "was  Charlie  Wu  Lung, 
minister  plenty-potation  from  China.  He 
skated  in  on  clog  shoes,  bumps  his  conk  on 
de  carpet  enough  to  give  him  a  headache, 
if  he  was  n  't  used  to  it,  and  he  says,  *  Good 
morning,  Your  Excellency,'  says  Charlie. 
'How  's  your  long  game  coming  on!'  he 
says. 

"  'Poorly,'  says  de  Sectary,  'poorly. 
I  'm  slicing  wit  me  brassey,'  he  says,  'like 
it  was  a  bread  knife, '  he  says.  '  How  's  your 
own  game,  Your  Excellency!'  he  says. 

"Den  Charlie  Wu  says,  'Not  up  to  par,' 
he  says.  'Me  queue  got  tangled  in  me  nib 
lick  yesterday,'  he  says,  'when  I  made  a 
swipe  at  de  ball  what  would  sent  it  across 
de  Patomac,'  he  says,  'and  nearly  yanked 
me  scalp  lock  off  me  conk, '  he  says. 

' '  '  Indeed ! '  says  de  Sectary,  giving  him 
de  frappe  front.  'What  Your  Excellency 
wants  to  do  is  to  keep  Your  Excellency's 
eye  on  de  ball.' 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Wit  dat  Charlie  Wu  looks  like  he  'd 
found  a  toad  in  his  tea,  and  he  chases  off  to 
cable  to  Li  Hung-Chang :  *  Prospects  for  re 
peal  of  Chinese  exclusion  act  not  so  favor 
able.  Received  hint  from  Sectary  of  State 
to  closely  obsoive  action  of  Pacific  Coast 
delegation.  Remit  million  gold  to  assist  ob- 
soivation. ' 

' '  I  asks  de  Sectary, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul, l  '  how 
he  dared  to  be  so  outspoken  wit  government 
secrets.  'I  has  to  give  de  members  of  de 
diplomatic  corpse  a  straight  tip,  now  and 
den,'  says  de  Sectary,  'or  deir  home  gover- 
ments  cuts  off  deir  wages  for  not  getting 
busy.  And,'  says  de  Sectary,  'de  saddest 
ting  in  official  life  is  to  have  to  sit  into  a 
small  game  wit  a  forn  diplomat  who  is  shy 
on  his  wages. ' 

"Well,"  goes  on  Mr.  Paul,  "de  next  gent 
to  waltz  in  was  de  Shargy  dey  Fairs  of 
Great  Brittain  and  England.  Him  and  de 
Sectary  side-stepped,  and  sparred  for  open 
ings,  and  den  Shargy  says : '  I  tink  Sir  Turn- 
mis  would  won,'  he  says,  'if  Shamrock 
24 


SOFT    SNAPS 

had  took  de  hard  tack  instead  of  de  port 
tack/ 

"  'Nay,'  says  de  Sectary,  who  came  up 
smiling.  '  If  he  had  blanketed  his  overhang 
wit  de  baby  jib,  Barr  would  luffed  his  lee 
way,  and  set  'em  up  in  de  odder  ally.' 
'Tanks!'  says  Shargy.  'Awfully  obliged,' 
he  says ;  and  he  skated. 

'  *  De  next  day  de  poipers  had  a  cablegraf  t 
from  Vienna  what  said:  'A  well-informed 
correspondent  writes  in  de  usually  correct 
1  i  Tagblat ' '  dat  Lord  Salisbury  has  received 
unofficial  advices  dat  de  Hay-Pauncefote 
treaty  will  be  favorably  reported,  unless  de 
Committee  on  Forn  Relations  reports  it  ad 
versely.  ' 

Sometimes  I  has  a  notion  dat  Mr.  Paul 
is  n't  on  de  dead  serious.  But  he  has  a  face 
on  him  dat  don't  tell  no  more  dan  de  face 
of  a  stopped  clock;  so  you  has  to  guess 
again,  or  let  it  go  at  dat. 

I  told  Duchess  about  our  talk  of  soft  jobs, 
and  she  says  dat  if  she  was  n't  Miss  Fan 
nie  's  maid  she  'd  hike  out  on  top  of  de  stoige 
25 


CHIMMIE   FA.DDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

as  a  actress.  She  has  saved  all  de  dresses 
Miss  Fannie  has  give  her  for  five  years,  so 
she  could  be  a  star  good  and  easy,  all  right. 
Wit  ten  trunks  of  swell  rags  to  dress  her, 
and  a  play  wrote  around  de  trunks  by  Clite 
Fitch,  she  'd  make  Sarry  Bernhardt  look 
like  a  back-row  ballet  goil  de  foist  season. 
Sure. 

But  listen :  I  don 't  want  none  of  dat  stoige 
job  in  mine.  I  had  a  fren  what  was  one  of 
de  fanciest  song-and-dance  men  on  de  Bow 
ery,  and  a  good  dresser  on  and  off  de  stoige, 
at  dat,  who  got  a  job  in  a  Broadway  teeater. 

"What  salary  do  you  want?"  asks  de 
manager,  when  me  fren  asks  for  de  job. 
"Fifteen  dollars  a  week,  cash,  and  a  hun 
dred  a  week  for  publication, ' '  says  me  fren, 
who  was  no  farmer. 

"I  '11  do  better  dan  dat,"  says  de  man 
ager,  who  was  no  farmer,  neider;  "I  '11 
press-agent  you  at  two  hundred  and  fifty  a 
week— and  give  you  seven  dollars  and  a  half 
in  long  green." 

Well,  me  fren  took  de  job,  but  it  was  his 
26 


SOFT    SNAPS 

finish.  When  de  Bowery  push  read  in  de 
poipers  of  his  dragging  out  two-fifty  per 
week  dey  touched  him  so  frequent  his  long 
green  was  n't  enough  to  start  wit,  and  he 
pawned  his  close  to  make  good. 

At  last  he  went  to  de  manager  and  told 
him  to  call  off  his  press  agent  on  dat  two- 
hundred-and-fifty  salary  yarn.  "Why?" 
says  de  manager.  "Because  me  wardrobe 
is  already  gone  to  make  good  on  dat  yarn, ' ' 
says  me  fren. 

"No  wardrobe?  Off  to  de  woods!"  says 
de  manager. 

Me  fren  's  resting,  now. 


27 


Ill 

OF  L'AIGLON  AND  WOMAN 


"  De  Duchess  was  crying  wit  rage." 


Ill 

OF   L'AIGLON   AND    WOMAN 

SAY,  I  like  to  chin  wid  Mr.  Paul  because 
he  makes  up  woids  as  he  goes  along, 
and  dat  's  fun  for  me ;  and  I  puts  him  wise 
on  real  woids,  and  dat  's  good  for  him. 

"It  's  improving  to  me,"  he  says,  "it  's 
improving  to  me,  and  it  's  amusing  to  you, ' ' 
he  says.  "Wit  improvement  and  amuse 
ment,"  he  says,  "even  Newport  would  be 
endurable. ' ' 

But  dat  was  only  a  jolly,  for  when  we 
goes  to  our  place  at  Newport  Mr.  Paul 
chases  along,  too,  so  of  course  it  's  endur 
able  to  him.  See?  He  comes  to  our  coun 
try  place  de  odder  day,  and,  as  de  folks  was 
all  out  on  de  road  getting  deirselves  per 
fumed  wit  ottar-of -mobile  oil,  he  says  he  'd 
stop  awhile  and  improve  his  mind  wit  a 
31 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

short  conversatserony  wit  me,  if  I  had  time 
to  spare. 

I  had  time  to  boin  and  was  looking  for  a 
furnace,  so  I  asks  him  had  he  been  to  see 
Sally  Bernhardt  out  on  top  of  de  stoige  in 
"Leglong." 

"No,"  says  he.  "No,  I  has  not  went," 
he  says,  "for  I  loaned  me  Ollendorfr"  to  a 
fren  who  was  going  to  Paris,"  he  says,  "to 
buy  some  Old  Masters  off  a  new  shop  what 
is  toining  'em  out  at  cut  rates,"  he  says. 
' 1 1  stopped  at  home, ' '  he  says,  ' '  and  wrote 
an  essay  on  'Books  dat  have  Helped  me 
Frens,'  "  he  says.  "De  drama,"  he  says 
— "de  drama,  as  interrupted  by  Miss  Bern 
hardt,"  he  says,  "is  a  great  moral  teacher. 
A  French  play  done  by  Miss  Bernhardt," 
he  says,  "offers  a  grand  chance  to  draw 
moral  lessons,"  he  says.  "Tell  me, 
Chames,"  he  says,  "what  did  you  draw?* 

"I  drew  ten  dollars,"  I  says,  "ten  good, 
long  green  plunks  I  had  hid  from  Duchess, 
for  de  price  of  two  seats,"  I  says.  "Duch 
ess  told  me  she  'd  die  if  she  did  n't  go,  so 
32 


OF   L'AIGLON  AND  WOMAN 

I  give  her  de  ten  plunks  to  buy  de  tickets, 
and  den  found  out  dat  Miss  Fannie  had  give 
Duchess  her  seats.  Say,"  I  says,  "is  dat 
goil— is  Duchess— a  fineseer?  What?  All 
she  needs  is  a  stock-ticker  and  a  steam- 
yacht  to  make  her  a  Steel  Trust  mag 
net." 

"A  Steel  Trust  magnet,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
"must  have  a  soul  of  iron,"  he  says. 
"Duchess  is  too  peaceful  for  de  job." 

"Sure,"  I  says.  "Duchess  is  for  peace 
if  I  has  de  price,"  I  says.  "When  I  asks 
her  for  de  ten  plunks  she  flimflammed  me  out 
of,  she  says,  'Let  us  not  quarrel,  Chames, ' 
she  says,  'about  a  little  ting  like  dat.  You 
is  reckless  wit  your  wealt,'  she  says,  'so 
I  '11  keep  de  money  for  fear  you  might  buy 
a  house  and  lot  on  Fift  Avenoo  wit  it,'  she 
says. 

* '  But '  Leglong '  was  wort  de  loss  of  ten, ' ' 
I  says.  ' '  It  was  a  better  play  dan  '  De  Moon 
shiner 's  Bride'  we  seen  in  de  Bowery  de 
week  before.  Most  pieces  on  de  stoige  gives 
all  de  fighting  to  de  men,"  I  says,  "but 
3  33 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

woman  is  more  courageouser  dan  man,"  I 
says,  "and  'Leglong'  proved  it." 

"How  is  dat,  Chames?"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Woman,"  I  says,  "don't  care  about  de 
distance  between  bases.  If  dey  needs  a 
home  run  in  deir  business,  dey  lights  out 
for  it,  witout  fussing  about  a  home-run  hit 
to  run  on, "  I  says.  ' l  Mr.  Leglong, ' '  I  says, 
"wanted  de  ball  knocked  over  de  fence  be 
fore  he  'd  get  away  from  his  base.  But 
dere  was  a  goil  in  de  play— she  was  de  coun 
tess—what  was  out  for  a  home  run  witout 
caring  wedder  de  ball  was  over  de  fence  or 
in  de  pitcher's  hand,"  I  says. 

' 1  She  was  'pestuous, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"She  was  a  loidy,"  I  says.  "But,  say," 
I  says,  "de  mug  what  wrote  'Leglong'  was 
no  happy,  happy  farmer  lad.  He  knowed 
dat  women  would  pungle  up  five  good 
plunks  of  deir  husbands'  boodle  to  see  a 
play  what  proved  dey  had  more  sand  dan 
man  has,"  I  says,  "when  dey  would  n't 
yield  half  a  plunk  to  see  'De  Moonshiner's 
Bride,'  where  a  man  saves  a  woman  from 
34 


OF   L'AIGLON  AND   WOMAN 

awful  deat  in  every  act— wit  six  acts,  at 
dat." 

"I  has  obsoived,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "some 
evidence  of  de  trut  of  your  similitude.  But 
de  fact  dat  de  countess  in  'Leglong'  had 
more  courage  dan  de  duke  proves  dat 
women  knows  more  bases  is  stole  dan  is 
earned.  Woman, ' '  he  says, ' '  as  you  remark, 
Chames, "  he  says,  "is  more  courageouser 
dan  man.  To  be  sure,"  he  says,  "she  is 
afraid  of  a  mouse ;  but  we  should  blame  de 
mouse  for  dat,  not  woman.  De  loidy  you 
speak  of  in  'Leglong'  was  an  exception  to 
de  rule,"  he  says,  using  dose  dude  woids 
he  has  a  strangle-hold  on— "an  exception 
to  de  rule  dat  women  do  not  act  upon  deir 
belief  dat  two  and  two  make  any  old  ting 
in  de  multiplication-table." 

"Little  Miss  Fannie  knows  her  multipli 
cation-table,"  I  says,  "and  she  is  a  boid." 

"Truly,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Woman  is  a 
boid  because  she  pretends  to  believe  in  de 
multiplication-table.  We  sends  our  daugh 
ters  to  college,"— he  was  jollying,  for  Mr. 
35 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

Paul  is  a  bachelor,— "and  dey  learns  to  de 
fine  de  indefinable,'7  says  he,  making  up 
woids  as  lie  went  along,  "and,"  he  says, 
i  i  dey  learns  to  harmonize  poetry  and  sense ; 
beyond  which,"  he  says,  "effort  of  de  hu 
man  mind  would  be  flying  in  de  face  of 
nature.  Yet, ' '  he  says,  ' '  woman  only  makes 
a  bluff  of  believing  dat  twice  two  is  four, 
and  dereby,"  he  says,  "under  Providence, 
is  presoived  for  us  to  love,  honor,  and  obey. 
What,"  he  says,  "would  dis  woild  be  od- 
derwise  f ' ' 

"Search  me,"  I  says.  "Search  me.  I 
ain't  got  de  answer." 

"If  de  feminine  mind  acted  upon  its  in- 
ner-radcable"  —  dat  's  de  very  woid  he  used, 
inner-radcable!— "belief  dat  twice  two 
makes  what  it  wants  it  to,  even  de  simple 
summer  goil  would  make  Jones  of  Arc  look 
like  a  loidy  golf -player,  ten  down  and  eight 
to  play,"  he  says. 

Just  den  Miss  Fannie  came  in,  so  I  did  n't 
get  a  chance  to  ask  Mr.  Paul  who  Miss  Jones 
of  Arkansas  was;  but  if  she  was  like  de 
36 


OF   L'AIGLON  AND   WOMAN 

countess  in  "Leglong,"  she  never  raked  no 
hay  for  a  living.  Did  you  see  Sally  Bern- 
hardt  in  dat  play?  No?  Den  let  me  tell 
you  about  it. 

Before  we  went  to  de  play  Duchess  gives 
me  a  song  and  dance  about  it.  She  is  from 
de  same  forn  part  Miss  Bernhardt  comes 
from.  Dey  bote  talks  French,  and  I  'm  get 
ting  a  little  bit  gay  wit  dat  langwudge 
meself. 

AVhen  Duchess  told  me  about  "Leg- 
long"  she  told  me  about  someting  else. 
Dat  's  de  way  wit  all  women,  and  specially 
Duchess.  When  she  wants  to  win  a  hat 
off  Miss  Fannie  she  don't  talk  about  de  hat, 
but  about  how  fine  Little  Miss  Fannie  is 
coming  along  wit  her  French.  Dat  mostly 
fetches  de  hat  and  a  pair  of  gloves  to  boot. 

Instead  of  giving  me  a  straight  tip  on 
"Leglong"  she  talked  about  a  mug  named 
Napoleon.  Say,  he  was  a  top-liner  for  fair. 
He  was  n't  a  has-been,  nor  a  will-be,  but  he 
was  an  izzer.  He  was  it.  From  de  tip  I 
got  on  him  he  was  de  lad  who  foist  found 
37 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

out  dat  you  can't  saw  wood  and  lead  de 
cotillion  at  de  same  time.  De  cotillion  is 
all  right  for  dose  what  has  n't  started  a  fire 
what  needs  cord-wood  to  keep  it  going. 

Napoleon  and  Grant  never  was  no  good 
at  leading  a  cotillion,  but  dey  has  de  big 
gest  tombs  in  de  woild,  and  deir  names  was 
in  de  poipers  more  dan  a  opray-singer  wit 
a  sore  troat— and  dey  never  had  no  press- 
agent,  at  dat. 

Say,  if  Napoleon  was  boss  of  New  York, 
Dick  Croker  would  be  looking  for  a  dollar-a- 
day  job  in  de  tunnel  railroad.  Dat  's  right. 

Well,  dis  play  would  never  been  writ  if 
it  had  n't  been  for  Napoleon ;  so  if  you  don't 
know  about  him  you  might  as  well  stop  at 
home  from  de  teeater  and  save  de  price. 
He  is  de  main  guy,  and  dat  's  why  I  'm 
putting  you  wise  on  him. 

He  was  a  boss.  See!  But  he  did  n't  get 
his  job  from  his  ma,  like  de  Prince  of 
Wales;  and  he  did  n't  get  elected,  like  Billy 
O'Brien.  He  just  sized  up  de  job,  liked  de 
looks  of  it,  and  says,  "I  choose  dat."  See? 
38 


OF   L'AIG-LON  AND   WOMAN 

Dere  was  a  lot  of  ready-made  kings  hold 
ing  down  easy  jobs  around  dere,  and  some 
of  'em  says  to  him,  "Nay,  nay,  Pauline! 
Guess  again, "  dey  says.  Duchess  tells  me 
dat  suited  Nap  down  to  de  ground.  Dey 
was  looking  for  trouble,  and  Nap  had  trou 
ble  to  give  away;  and,  besides,  he  was  a 
scrapper  from  de  scrap-basket. 

All  dose  ready-made  kings  gets  deir  gangs 
togedder  and  puts  up  a  fight.  Nap  had  de 
loveliest  time  of  his  life.  Every  time  lie 
had  a  scrap  he  win-  a  new  district,  and  he 
put  his  own  leaders  over  more  districts 
dan  dere  is  between  de  Battery  and  de 
Bronx. 

He  made  his  brodder  Joe  leader  of  de 
Dago  Spanish  district,  where  dey  builds  tar 
gets  for  Dewey  and  Sampson;  his  brodder 
Lou  he  put  in  charge  of  Holland,  which  is 
Teddy  Roosevelt's  old  district;  his  brodder 
Romy  he  sets  up  over  Westphalia,  where  dc 
hams  come  from ;  his  brodder-in-law,  a  fly 
cop  named  Murray,  who  'd  been  captain  of 
de  Paris  Tenderloin,  he  made  leader  of  Na- 
39 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   ME.  PAUL 

pies,  a  guinney  district  where  de  street- 
sweepers  come  from.  He  had  one  of  de 
grandest  shake-ups  dere  ever  was. 

Den  all  de  kings  what  had  and  had  n't 
lost  deir  jobs  dey  calls  a  caucus,  and  says, 
' '  We  must  get  togedder  and  turn  down  dis 
upstart,  or  he  '11  stampede  de  convention, 
and  we  won't  have  a  place  even  on  de  Com 
mittee  on  Music  and  Fireworks.  Let  us," 
dey  says,  "stand  hand  to  hand,  and  toe  to 
toe,  and  heel  to  heel, ' '  dey  says, i  i  for  shorter 
hours  and  longer  jobs,"  dey  says.  "Let 
us,"  dey  says,  "hist  de  banner  of  Reform, 
and  spurn  de  mailed  hand  of  irony  from 
our  midst, ' '  dey  says. 

Well,  de  Reformers  quit  fighting  among 
deirselves,  and  Napoleon's  gang  was  n't 
strong  enough  to  win  witout  no  toid  party 
in  de  field  to  split  de  Reform  vote;  so  de 
combine  come  down  to  de  Harlem  wit  a 
majority.  Den  Nap  went  over  to  a  place 
called  Elba  to  race  his  horses  and  to  wait 
for  de  Reformers  to  begin  making  faces  at 
each  odder.  But  he  came  back  a  steamer  or 
40 


OF   L'AIGLON  AND   WOMAN 

two  too  soon,  and,  in  a  lovely  fight  called 
Waterloo,  he  met  his  finish.  He  was  a  good 
one,  and  I  'm  sorry  I  never  met  him. 

I  asked  Duchess  who  it  was  knocked 
him  out— who  got  de  decision.  She  says 
nobody  knocked  Napoleon  out;  dat  he  put 
himself  in  de  hands  of  his  frens,  and  dey 
put  him  on  an  island  what  had  no  phone  to 
France,  so  he  could  n't  get  his  gang  to- 
gedder  again. 

"Napoleon  was  not  defeated,"  says  Duch 
ess.  "He  was  betrayed." 

She  was  so  cross  about  it  I  asked  Mr. 
Paul  who  win  Waterloo,  and  he  says, 
"Chames,"  he  says,  "a  long  and  agreeable 
study  of  history,  romance,  and  de  drama 
has  led  me  to  believe,"  he  says,  "dat  de 
battle  of  Waterloo  was  won  by  a  loidy 
named  Becky  Sharp,"  he  says. 

I  don't  know  if  she  was  Russian,  Prus 
sian,  or  Irish,  but  she  must  have  been  one 
of  dose  Jones  of  Arkansas  goils  to  put  as 
good  a  man  as  Nap  out  of  business. 

Well,  Napoleon  had  a  son,  and  his  name 
41 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

was  Leglong,  and  he  's  de  little  duke  de 
play  is  about. 

De  play  shows  dat  de  Reformers  was  dead 
leery— afraid,  see!  — of  Leglong,  so  dey  tells 
his  ma  to  take  him  over  to  Austria,  and  see 
dat  he  never  learned  to  play  politics,  never 
had  a  gang,  and  never  tried  to  run  a 
primary. 

De  duke's  ma— she  was  de  Widely  Napo 
leon,  of  course— got  gay  in  Austria  and 
married  again,  and  de  little  duke,  Leglong, 
was  sore  dat  she  forgot  her  place  as  Nap's 
widdy.  He  told  her  so,  too ;  and  right  dere, 
while  Duchess  was  whispering  to  me  what 
dey  was  saying  on  de  stoige,  I  caught  on 
dat  de  gent  what  wrote  "Leglong"  knew 
a  good  ting  when  he  seen  it,  for  he  'd  stole 
de  mix-up  of  de  actors  from  anodder  play 
I  seen  once,  and  its  name  is  "Hamlet." 

Ever  see  "Hamlet"?  Let  me  tell  you: 
Edwin  Boot'  used  to  say  to  his  modder,  de 
queen,  "You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  your 
self,  getting  gay  like  dis,  and  marrying 
again  so  soon,"  he  said.  "You  forget  too 
42 


OF   L'AIGLON  AND  WOMAN 

quick,"  he  said.  "I  'in  going  to  get  into 
de  ring  and  do  some  fighting,"  he  said. 
"Denmark  is  rotten,"  he  said.  Den  de 
queen  said  she  'd  tell  her  husband,  and 
Boot'  said,  "No,  don't  tell  him.  I  '11  be 
good,"  he  said.  But  he  had  to  talk,  so  he 
said  de  old  king,  what  was  Boot's  pa,  was 
a  better  man,  in  or  out  of  a  fight,  dan  de 
one  his  ma  married. 

Listen:  Leglong  sings  just  de  same  kind 
of  a  song  to  his  ma.  He  says  he  '11  get 
busy  and  fight  till  all  de  quitter  blood  is 
out  of  him.  Here  's  what  Duchess  tells  me 
he  says  to  his  ma : 

"Si  j'ai  du  sang  des  rois,  il  faut  qu'on 
me  le  tire." 

All  de  same  he  don't:  he  just  talks. 

His  ma  sees  he  's  no  wood-sawyer  like 
his  pa,  so  she  truns  a  scare  into  him.  In 
stead  of  fighting  de  quitter  blood  out  of 
him,  he  quits  and  says  for  her  not  to  peach 
to  Metternich.  But  he  has  to  talk,  too,  so 
he  says  to  his  ma,  ' '  Forget  it. ' '  See  ?  Just 
like  we  say  in  America,  "Ah,  forget  it!" 
43 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

He  rubs  it  into  her  about  getting  married 
on  de  sly  in  a  hurry,  and  says  she  forgets 
so  easy.  "Vous  ouUiez  si  vite,"  he  says, 
and  dat  means,  "You  has  a  slick  mind  not 
to  remember.'7 

Say,  on  de  level,  is  dat  "Hamlet"? 
What? 

I  told  Duchess  dat,  and  she  says,  "Natu- 
rellement. ' '  De  two  plays  is  much  de  same, 
she  says.  De  English,  she  says,  was  al 
ways  stealing  French  brains,  and  most  likely 
de  mug  what  wrote  "Hamlet"  stole  it  from 
"Leglong." 

Well,  de  little  duke's  ma  got  shy  of  her 
job  of  keeping  Leglong  from  learning  his 
daddy's  game,  so  de  Reformers  put  a  geezer 
named  Metternich  over  him.  He  was  a  sort 
of  Headquarters'  detective,  and  rubbered 
around  trying  to  keep  de  little  duke  from 
learning  Napoleon's  record,  so  he  would  n't 
get  gay  and  go  out  and  make  a  reputation 
for  himself. 

Say,  dere  was  no  use  paying  wages  to 
Metternich.  Leglong  was  taught  everyting 
44 


OF   L'AIGLON   AND   WOMAN 

dat  would  do  him  any  good,  and  sometings 
dat  would  n  Jt ;  but  dere  was  no  fight  in  him 
—only  talk. 

Why,  say,  de  Nap  push  from  Paris  fixed 
it  up  a  dozen  times  to  turn  de  trick  and 
make  de  little  duke  king,  but  he  was  always 
short  on  nerve  and  long  on  talk.  No  one 
had  de  right  to  tell  him  to  cut  his  lines,  so 
he  talked  himself  to  deat  before  he  could 
make  up  his  mind  to  chase  himself  to  Paris, 
where  his  gang  was  ready  to  smash  de  Anti- 
Vice  Committee  if  he  would  say  de  woid. 

Dey  talked  so  much,  and  dere  was  so  lit 
tle  doing,  I  was  getting  dat  tired  feeling, 
and  would  went  home,  but  at  last  de  coun 
tess  got  into  action,  and  den  dere  was  trou 
ble  for  fair. 

But  foist  let  me  tell  you:  dere  was  a 
actor,— he  's  Irish  all  right,  his  name  is 
Cooghlan,  but  he  speaks  French  as  well  as 
Duchess,— and  he  played  de  part  of  a  ser 
geant  doing  business  to  get  de  duke  his 
dad's  job.  But  he  was  a  chappy  alongside 
de  countess  when  she  started  playing  ball. 
45 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

When  a  gang  from  a  tough  ward  in  Paris 
comes  over  to  where  de  duke  was,  dey  says 
to  him,  "Get  a  move  on,  your  Dukeship," 
dey  says.  "Play  ball,"  dey  says.  "De 
push-cart  men  in  belle  Paree  is  not  doing  a 
ting  but  selling  your  mug  on  pipes  and 
wipes.  It  's  up  to  you, ' '  dey  says,  ' '  to  line 
out  a  tree-bagger  and  win  de  game.  Keep 
your  eye  on  de  ball,"  dey  says. 

Wit  dat  every  one  began  talking  again, 
and  Sally  Bernhardt,  who  was  de  duke, 
talked  more  dan  any  one  else.  But  wit  dis, 
and  wit  dat,  and  mostly  wit  de  help  of  de 
countess,  dey  hustled  de  game  along  till  one 
night  de  gang  agreed  to  make  a  rush  to 
Paris,  run  de  town  wide  open,  give  de  Re 
formers  de  merry  ha-ha,  and  make  a  Ten 
derloin  of  de  Boulevard  dees  Eyetalian,  as 
soon  as  de  duke  should  show  up  wit  a  claim 
of  a  majority. 

What  happened!     Who  got  busy  foist! 

Was  it  Leglong?    Not  a  bit  like  it!    It  was 

de   countess.     Netting  was   doing  wit   de 

duke  but  de  same  old  line  of  talk.    It  was 

40 


OF   L'AIGLON   AND   WOMAN 

only  by  letting  Miss  Bernhardt  and  Con 
Cooghlan  talk  all  de  time  dat  dey  manages 
to  fetch  'em  as  far  as  de  Wagram  base-ball 
field,  where  de  duke's  dad  once  had  one  of 
de  finest  games  of  his  life. 

Still  notting  doing.  Instead  of  taking  his 
bat  and  swinging  on  de  solo  plexer  of  de 
Reformers,  de  duke  all  to  once  links  of  a 
engagement  he  has  wit  a  loidy.  De  countess 
says  she  'd  keep  de  engagement  dressed  up 
in  close  like  de  duke's;  and  she  done  it,  and 
got  into  a  cutting  scrape  wit  de  loidy 's 
brodder. 

Den  de  countess  takes  de  L  road  out  to 
Wagram,  and  when  she  finds  Leglong  still 
talking,  she  trows  up  bote  hands,  and  says, 
"For  heaven's  sake,  me  dear  duke,"  she 
says,  "get  busy,"  she  says.  "Get  a  move 
on!" 

'  *  I  cannot  leave  you— a  woman ! "  he  says. 

"Small  loss  to  leave  a  goil !"  she  says. 

"But  you  has  fought  for  me,"  says  he. 

"I  has,"  she  says,  "and  made  a  reputa 
tion  for  you,"  she  says.  "I  'm  a  fencer 
47 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

from  Sword  Hollow,'7  she  says.     "But  let 
dat  go:  get  a  move  on.    Partez!"  she  says. 

* '  You  are  wounded ! "  he  says. 

"And  you  are  talking,"  says  she.  "Her 
brodder  led  for  me,  and  I  give  him  le  coup 
de  contre-pointe,"  she  says. 

Dat  's  French  for  "knock-out." 

De  duke  asks  de  countess  was  de  loidy 
on  hand  at  de  engagement.  She  says  no, 
but  dat  de  cops  was. 

See  de  point  1  It  was  a  woman  who  done 
de  fighting,  got  wounded,  and  was  telling 
de  man  to  get  busy ;  but  it  was  a  man  who 
done  netting  but  talk.  Why,  she  kept  at 
him  till  de  cops  came  and  chased  her  off 
de  lot.  Dat  left  de  duke  alone.  Instead  of 
making  a  run  for  Paris,  he  says,  * '  Now  dat 
I  has  de  field  of  Wagram  all  to  meself,  I 
will  make  a  few  remarks." 

Den  I  had  cold  feet  again. 

Say,  on  de  level,  he  talked  so  much  de 

old  soldiers  got  up  out  of  deir  graves  and 

asks  him  would  he  please  move  on  to  de 

next  lot,  or  hire  a  hall,  and  leave  'em  in 

48 


OF    L'AIGLON    AND    WOMAN 

peace.  Dat  was  where  dey  was  not  wise. 
If  dere  was  one  ting  more  dan  anodder  de 
duke  was  looking  for,  it  was  a  chance  to 
talk  to  somebody;  so  he  talked  back  at  de 
Gr.  A.  K.  till  de  coinel  of  de  post  toined 
out  some  live  soldiers  to  make  de  duke  quit. 
It  was  all  over  but  de  picture  and  de  coi- 
tain.  Leglong  took  cold  on  de  base-ball  lot 
and  dies  in  de  next  act.  De  only  man 
who  'd  done  any  fighting  for  him  was  a 
woman;  all  de  sneak  woik  against  him  was 
done  by  a  man,  de  gazeaboo  Metternich. 

When  we  left  de  teeater  Duchess  was  cry 
ing  wit  rage.  She  says  to  me,  "If  Napo 
leon's  son  had  only  been  a  goil,"  she  says, 
"she  'd  been  in  Paris  taking  five  o'clock 
at  de  Louvre,  while  dat  silly  duke  was  rais 
ing  ghosts  to  talk  to,"  she  says. 

It  don't  count  against  woman  as  a  fighter 
dat  she  's  afraid  of  a  mouse,  for  dere  ain't 
no  district  wort  winning  dat  is  run  by  mice, 
anyway.  What? 


49 


IV 
THE  WIDOW'S  AUTOMOBILE 


We  makes  him  a  present  of  our  dust." 


IV 

THE   WIDOW'S   AUTOMOBILE 

REMEMBER  de  Wily  Widdy,  de  swell 
dame  in  Miss  Fannie  ?s  set,  what  used 
to  make  goo-goo  eyes  at  Whiskers  f  Well, 
she  's  a  widdy  yet.  She  must  like  de  game, 
dough  Duchess  says  she  ought  to  marry— 
and  give  de  goils  a  chance. 

We  was  down  to  our  place  on  de  Sound 
last  week,  and  Mr.  Paul,  who  has  de  place 
next  ours,  happens  to  be  down,  too.  Some 
how  he  mostly  happens  to  be  along  where 
we  is. 

Wily  Widdy,  she  lives  pretty  near  our 
place,  too,  and  de  very  day  after  we  opens 
de  house  she  comes  chasing  over  in  her 
ottermobile,  looking  like  a  picture  in  de  poi- 
per  wit  her  mobe  coat  and  hat  and  veil. 
Miss  Fannie  was  on  de  verandy,  and  looks 
53 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

as  pleased  to  see  de  Widdy  as  if  Little  Miss 
Fannie  had  de  measles ;  but  real-ting  swells 
like  Miss  Fannie  takes  deir  punishment 
smiling,  and  dat  's  de  way  she  took  de 
Widdy. 

"You  're  looking  uncommon  fit,"  says 
Miss  Fannie. 

"I  should,  me  dear,"  says  de  Widdy. 
"It  's  hard  woik.  Really,  Fannie,"  she 
says,  "you  might  say  I  do  me  own  house- 
woik.  Why,  do  you  know,  dear,"  she  says, 
"I  has  only  six  solvents  on  me  place,  not 
counting  me  maid,  me  sewing-woman,  de 
gardeners,  and  stablemen.  How  is  your 
dear  papa!"  she  says. 

"You  is  a  wonder  of  a  huzif,"  says  Miss 
Fannie. 

*  *  A  lonely  one,  me  dear, ' '  says  de  Widdy. 
"It  's  an  ax  of  Christmas  charity,"  she 
says,  "for  you  to  come  here  once  a  year 
to  keep  me  from  going  mad  with  ennui. 
How  's  your  dear  papa?"  she  says. 

"You  see  very  few  people!"  says  Miss 

Fannie,  smiling. 

54 


THE   WIDOW'S   AUTOMOBILE 

"Not  a  soul,  me  dear!"  says  de  Widdy. 
"And  I  goes  no  where, "  she  says.  "Ex 
cept  a  trip  to  Paris,  to  buy  a  few  simple 
tings  to  cover  me  nakedness ;  a  mont  or  two 
at  Newport;  and  a  run  to  Canada,  to  meet 
de  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York,  one  might 
say  I  has  not  set  foot  outside  me  own  cabin 
door.  How  's  your  dear  papa?"  she  says. 
"Does  your  man  understand  a  mobile!" 
she  says,  meaning  me.  "How  's  your 
dear-" 

"I  tink, "  says  Miss  Fannie,  "Chames 
could  care  for  such  a  dear  little  runabout 
as  yours." 

"Den  let  him  take  it  to  de  stables,"  says 
de  Widdy.  "How  's  your  dear  papa?" 
she  says,  going  into  de  house  wit  Miss 
Fannie. 

It  was  a  dinky  little  mobe,  wit  only  two 
handles  to  its  name— one  to  start  and  stop, 
one  to  steer— and  I  got  intimate  wit  it  dead 
easy.  Remember  me  telling  you  about  de 
big  machine  Whiskers  brought  from  Paris? 
Since  I  was  left  at  de  post  wit  dat  one  I 
55 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    ME.  PAUL 

has  been  rubbering  de  mobe  game,  so  as  not 
to  be  out  of  de  push  de  next  time  I  was 
elected  snuffer.  I  did  tings  wid  de  Widdy  's 
mobe ;  copped  de  racket  dead  easy,  and  was 
having  de  time  of  me  life,  when  Duchess 
conies  and  pipes  me,  tautful,  awhile. 

'  *  Vous  etes  tres  smart,  M  'sieu, ' '  she  says. 

"Sure,"  I  says. 

"De  Widdy  stays  to  lunch,"  she  says. 

i  i  Call  de  police, ' '  I  says. 

1  i  We  might  excise  her  mobile, ' '  she  says. 

I  tumbled.  Duchess  near  died  wit  French 
rage  when  Whiskers  made  scrap-iron  of  de 
Paris  machine. 

"How  can  we  make  a  sneak!"  I  asks. 

"I  has  de  cap  and  mask  and  glasses  of 
de  shuffer  of  M'sieu  Van  Courtlandt,"  she 
says.  "Nobody  would  n't  know  you  in 
'em." 

"How  about  yourself?"  I  says.  Every 
body  about  our  places  knows  Duchess  be 
sight,  she  being  a  boid  for  style  when  she 
sheds  her  cap  and  apron. 

"Have  I  no  wit,  Master  Chames!"  she 
56 


THE  WIDOW'S  AUTOMOBILE 

says.  "Take  de  machine  to  de  side  lane 
and  wait  for  me. " 

Say,  honest,  Duchess  is  a  torrowbred,  for 
fair,  but  I  never  taut  she  had  de  noive  to 
toin  de  trick  she  done.  In  two  minutes  I 
taut  Widdy  was  coming — but  it  was  Duch 
ess  ragged  out  in  Widdy 's  coat,  hat,  and 
veil.  Dat  's  right. 

"What  's  your  game,  Duchess!"  says  I. 

"Why  is  it,  mon  ami,"  she  says,  "you 
always  tinks  I  am  for  de  game  out?  I  am 
ingenue  as  a  child  in  de  boarding-school," 
she  says.  "If  we  see  M'sieu  Van  Court- 
landt  overtake  him,"  she  says. 

Dat  last  speech  made  a  soubrette  out  of 
de  ingenue;  but  I  was  feeling  a  bit  sporty 
meself,  so  I  hikes  out  de  old  Boston  post 
road,  where  I  knows  Whiskers  takes  his 
morning  ride. 

Before  we  comes  up  on  him  Duchess  tips 
me  to  let  her  go.  And  I  let,  and  we  slides 
past  Whiskers  like  he  was  hitched  to  a  house 
and  lot.  As  we  makes  him  a  present  of  our 
dust,  Duchess  passes  him  out  a  swell  bow 
57 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

what  was  a  dead  ringer  for  de  style  of  bow 
dat  Widdy  gives,  and  peeping  tru  de  side 
of  me  glasses  I  see  him  bob  his  bonnet  like 
lie  was  tickled  to  deat. 

"What  next?"  I  asks  Duchess,  when 
we  'd  left  him  half  a  mile  back. 

"Slow  one  little,"  she  says,  "so  Whis- 
kair  can  keep  us  in  sight,  and  make  for  de 
Cottage." 

Dat  is  a  road-house  where  swells  stop  to 
wash  de  dust  out  of  deir  troats.  So  I  stops 
dere,  Duchess  jumps  out,  runs  to  a  dinky 
bit  of  summer  house,  and  tips  me  to  folley 
her.  A  French  waiter  comes,  Duchess  jab 
bers  to  him  in  hurry-call  style,  and  in  half 
a  minute  we  had  a  couple  of  glasses  of  sweet 
water  and  pink  syrup  on  de  table  for  us. 

"It  's  too  soft,"  I  says.  "I  '11  not  drink 
de  dinky  dago  stuff,"  I  says.  "Fetch  me 
a  beer, ' '  I  says,  taking  off  me  mask. 

"You  need  not  have  to  drink  it,"  says 
Duchess,  "only  pretend  to,  and  keep  on 
your  mask,"  she  says,  pulling  Widdy 's  veil 
over  her  face. 

58 


THE    WIDOW'S    AUTOMOBILE 

Say,  she  was  awful  busy,  so  I  done  what 
she  told  me.  I  did  n  't  say  a  woid,  but  Duch 
ess  laughed  like  I  was  jollying  to  beat  a 
drum.  I  heard  Whiskers  come  along,  stop, 
leave  his  horse,  and  start  for  de  summer 
house. 

Den  Duchess  got  gay.  She  put  her  arm 
over  me  shoulder,  and  wit  her  lips  close  to 
me  ear,  she  says,  "If  you  move  or  speak, 
Chames,  I  '11  not  buy  tickets  to  de  teeater, 
like  I  promised,"  she  says. 

Dat  's  all  she  says,  only  she  says  it  like 
she  was  saying  tings  ten-to-one  nicer. 
Whiskers  stops  suddint  when  he  seen  us, 
said  someting  to  himself  what  was  a  million 
miles  from  polite  langwudge;  den  I  heard 
him  chase  back  to  his  horse,  and  gallop 
off. 

"Quick,  Chames,"  says  Duchess.  "Get 
de  machine  started  and  hurry  back  by  de 
shore  road." 

Say,  you  should  see  us !  It  's  too  bad  de 
judges  was  n't  dere  to  time  us.  We  made 
a  mile  a  minute  when  we  stuck  to  de  road, 
59 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

but  when  we  was  in  de  air  we  doubled  dat 
gait.  Easy ! 

*  *  Is  it  safe ! ' '  says  Duchess,  near  dead  wit 
fear. 

"Sure  not,"  I  says.  "De  only  ting  dat 
makes  mobiling  sport  is  dat  it  is  n't  safe." 

"Mon  Dieu!"  she  says,  as  we  hit  a  rock 
and  jumped  a  mile,  "if  Miss  Fannie  don't 
give  me  her  lace  tea-gown  for  dis  I  'm  a 
foolish  fool!" 

"What  for?"  I  says,  catching  me  breat 
as  we  struck  de  eart  again. 

"Ask  no  questions,"  she  says,  "but  at 
tend,"  she  says,  "to  dis  voiture  du  diable!" 
she  says. 

Say,  we  was  n't  long  getting  home. 
Duchess  floats  into  de  house  looking  like 
Widdy's  double,  but  when  I  'd  stabled  de 
machine,  and  got  to  de  house,  Duchess  was 
waltzing  about  as  per  usual,  like  she  'd 
never  left  her  own  fireside. 

In  about  half  an  hour  Whiskers  gets 
home,  and  he  had  a  mug  on  him  like  he 
wears  when  he  gets'  a  notice  from  his  broker 
60 


THE    WIDOW'S    AUTOMOBILE 

for  a  bunch  of  long  green  to  buy  some  mar 
gins  wit.  Hark:  I  ain't  on  to  just  what 
dose  margins  is,  but  de  way  Whiskers  don 't 
like  'em  I  wonder  he  ever  buys  'em.  When 
he  piped  de  Widdy's  coat  and  hat  he 
could  n't  been  more  sprised  to  see  'em  if  dey 
was  a  basket  of  snakes. 

Just  den  Miss  Fannie  sails  along,  and 
she  says,  "I  'm  glad  you  're  home  for  lunch, 
papa,"  she  says.  ''Mrs.  Harding  is  here." 

"Indeed!"  says  Whiskers,  like  he  'd  just 
been  took  from  cold  storage.  "How  did 
she  come!" 

"In  her  ottermobile, "  says  Miss  Fannie. 

Whiskers  blinked  like  some  one  had 
passed  him  out  a  hard  jolt,  and  he  says, 
"I  suddently  recalls  a  engagement  to  lunch 
at  de  yacht  club  wit  de  Commodore  of  de 
Rocking-Chair  Fleet,"  he  says,  and  shoots 
out. 

Dat  evening  Mr.  Paul  was  to  our  place, 
and  he  says,  "I  tink  I  '11  buy  a  mobe,"  he 
says,  "now  dat  yachting  is  over  wit." 

"Dey  is  no  good,"  says  Whiskers. 
61 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

"Not  de  big  kind  you  had,"  says  Mr. 
Paul,  "but  a  tidy  little  runabout." 

"Dey  is  woise!"  says  Whiskers. 

"To  be  sure,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "dey  is  not 
much  for  sport.  Holding  a  crowbar  what 
regulates  a  tank  of  coal-oil  is  not  de  keen 
delight,"  he  says,  using  dose  fancy  woids 
he  has  a  cinch  on,  k'of  holding  de  helm,  of 
a  yacht,  and  feeling  de  power  in  her  sails; 
it  's  not  like  holding  de  ribbons  over  a  pair 
of  smart  steppers  what  obey  your  touch  and 
voice  as  your  own  muscles  obey  your  will ; 
it  's  not  like  sitting  a  tree-quarter-bred 
jumper  dat  's  willing  to  accept  Washington 
Arch  for  a  hurdle— if  you  is;  it  's  not  like 
trying  a  cleek  approach  of  a  hundred  yards 
to  be  down  on  your  next  for  a  half —to  win 
de  game;  it  's  not  like  crouching  in  a  blind 
before  sunrise,  listening  for  de  whir  of  teal 
you  can  hardly  see,  and  dat  must  be  killed 
at  forty  yards  wit  de  foist  barrel— or  else 
fall  where  your  dog  can't  retrieve  'em;  it  's 
not—" 

"All  nonsense,"  cuts  in  Whiskers.  "De 
02 


THE  WIDOW'S   AUTOMOBILE 

ottermobile  is  a  wicked,  a  common,  a  vul 
gar  nuisance!" 

"Why,  papa  dear!"  says  Miss  Fannie. 
"How  cross  you  are!  You  would  fared 
better  if  you'd  stopped  and  lunched  wit 
Mrs.  Harding  and  me. ' ' 

"You  need  not  return  her  call,"  says 
Whiskers,  getting  poiple  in  de  face.  "She 
is  a  wicked,  a  common,  a  vulgar— 

"Papa!"  says  Miss  Fannie,  getting  big- 
eyed. 

Say,  when  she  gets  big-eyed  tings  stop 
suddent. 

All  de  same,  Miss  Fannie  could  n't  have 
been  very  cross  about  tings,  for  de  next  day 
she  gives  Duchess  de  lace  tea-gown.  1  asks 
Duchess  "What  for?"  and  she  says,  "I 
gets  de  gown  for  being  such  a  good  goil." 
What ! 


G3 


MR.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND 
LEARNS 


And  make  de  sweetest  cotillion  leader  Chief  of  Police.'  he  says.' 


V 

MR.  PAUL   INSTRUCTS  AND   LEARNS 

SAY,  wit  me  hand  on  me  heart,  you  never 
can't  tell  when  a  woman  has  someting 
up  her  sleeve  besides  her  elbow. 

Listen:  Duchess,  being  forn  born,  has 
more  tricks  dan  we  Americans.  I  suppose 
dat  's  because  America  was  discovered— for 
dere  is  notting  like  being  discovered  to  make 
a  mug  quit  getting  gay.  I  wish  some  one 
would  discover  France ;  den,  I  guess,  Duch 
ess  would  stop  some  of  de  tricks  she  woiks 
to  touch  me  for  all  de  boodle  I  earns  or 
wins.  It  's  a  good  ting  I  married  Duchess, 
for,  if  she  was  n't  me  wife,  de  good  long 
green  she  has  parted  me  from  would  make 
me  sad.  Now  it  only  makes  me  mad.  It  's 
all  in  de  family,  and  some  day  she  '11  get  a 
tired  feeling,  and  I  can  hold  out  enough 
G7 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

plunks  to  give  meself  a  day  off,  witout  won 
dering  where  I  '11  cop  de  price  to  celebrate 
wit. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you:  you  know 
de  bull  pup  what  Mr.  Paul  bought  for  Little 
Miss  Fannie ?  Well,  dere  's  netting  about 
dat  dog  dat  grows  so  fast  as  de  size  of  his 
neck.  His  collars  always  fits  him  so  quick 
dey  makes  his  eyes  bulge  like  a  Willie  who 
has  bet  his  last  bean  on  a  sure  ting  horse 
dat  "also  ran." 

Well,  me  and  Duchess  was  going  into 
town  de  odder  day  to  do  some  errants  for 
Miss  Fannie,  and  Mr.  Paul  says  to  me,  he 
says,  "Chames,"  he  says,  "stop  at  de  store 
and  buy  a  new  collar  for  de  dog,"  he  says, 
"for  his  collar  chokes  him  so  he  tinks  he  is 
mistook  for  a  nanny chist.  And,"  he  says, 
"dat  is  too  mean  a  choke  to  play,  even  on 
a  dog,"  he  says. 

So  he  passes  me  out  a  fiver,  and  I  asks 
him,  "What  is  a  nannychist!"  I  asks. 

"I  rejoice  dat  you  has  come  to  me  wit 
dat  question,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  looking  as 
68 


ME.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND  LEARNS 

solemn  as  de  photograph  of  a  matinee  actor. 
"Had  you  asked  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt" 
dat  's  Whiskers— "he  would  have  trun  a 
fit  for  a  answer.  But  I,  Chames,"  he  says, 
"has  made  a  study  of  nannychisin;  and, 
having  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart,"  he 
says,  "can  speak  on  de  subject  witout  dan 
ger  of  applexy. ' ' 

When  Mr.  Paul  talks  dude,  like  dat,  he 
likes  to  have  someting  near  de  hollow  of  his 
elbow.  So  I  pulls  de  plug  out  of  a  pint,  and 
I  puts  a  glass  where  he  could  hear  de  gossip 
of  de  bubbles  witout  a  megaphone. 

He  looks  at  de  glass  tautful-like  for  a 
while,  den  he  says:  " Nanny chists  is  two 
kinds :  Dose  dat  teaches  it  and  dose  dat  per 
forms  it.  I  deeply  regret,"  he  says,  "dat 
our  laws  lets  us  hang  only  de  performing 
nannychists.  When  I  gets  to  be  King  of  dis 
country,  Chames,"  he  says,  "I  will  make 
a  hit  wit  honest  folk  by  hanging  de  teachers 
of  nannychism.  Dereby,"  he  says,  "I  will 
save  de  next  king  de  trouble  of  hanging 
de  performers—  dere  won't  be  any  to  hang. ' ' 
69 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

De  funniest  ting  about  Mr.  Paul  is  dat 
he  looks  most  solemner  when  he  murmurs 
tru  his  bonnet.  De  furder  dey  is  from  being 
next,  de  wiser  bote  him  and  Whiskers  looks. 

Listen:  de  next  day  Mr.  Paul  and  Whis 
kers  was  having  a  hot-air  conversatserony 
on  police  blackmail,  which  dey  is  as  wise 
about  as  a  gazeaboo  from  Cohoes  is  about 
green-goods.  Whiskers  was  so  red  in  de 
face  dat  his  whiskers  looked  like  a  streak 
of  fat  in  a  fresh-cut  ham,  and  he  was  say 
ing,  "I  tell  you,  Paul,"  he  says,  "dere 
should  be  a  law,"  says  he,  "what  would 
hang  every  person  what  took  money  for  pro 
tecting  vice,"  he  says. 

"What  is  de  matter  wit  boining  'em  at 
de  stake?"  says  Mr.  Paul,  giving  me  de 
wink,  but  looking  at  Whiskers  as  solemn  as 
a  song-and-dance  artist.  "A  fire,"  he  says, 
"is  more  cheerfuller  dan  a  scaffold  any 
day,"  he  says.  "Especial,"  he  says,  "on 
a  cold  day." 

"I  agrees  wit  you,"  says  Whiskers. 
"You  sometimes  talk  like  a  serious-minded 
70 


MR.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND  LEARNS 

young  man,  Paul, ' '  he  says.  ' '  You  ought  to 
break  into  Congress,  to  make  laws  against 
lowering  de  rate  of  interest.  De  ship  of 
state,7'  he  says,  "needs  you  at  de  helm. 
Chames,"  he  says,  "soive  us  a  small 
bottle." 

1 '  Why  '  small '  I "  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  Ain  't 
you  drinking  anyting?" 

"  A  large  bottle,  Chames,"  says  Whiskers. 

So  I  soives  'em  hole  a  life-size  ball,  lis 
tening  to  deir  talk  while  I  fusses  around 
like  I  was  busy. 

"De  trouble  is,"  says  Whiskers,  "we  is 
not  doing  our  duty  as  citizens  and  tax- 
players,"  he  says.  "We  should  get  to- 
gedder  and  teach  de  police  how  wicked  it 
is  for  to  take  money  to  protect  vice,"  he 
says. 

"It  is  woise  dan  wicked,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"It  is  bad  form.  We  should  have  classes 
in  Etiquette  for  Cops,"  he  says,  "and  make 
de  sweetest  cotillion  leader  chief  of  police," 
he  says. 

"Paul,  you  are  jesting,"  says  Whiskers. 
71 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"Tell  me,  in  earnest,  what  remedy  you 
would  apply,"  he  says. 

"If  I  was  Boss  of  New  York,"  says  Mr. 
Paul,  "I  would  hire  Madison  Square  Gar 
den,  and  ask  all  de  crooks  in  de  city  to  take 
tea  wit  me.  Under  de  sooding  influence  of 
marmalade  I  would  find  out  from  'em,  on 
de  level,  what  dey  could  afford  to  pay  to 
do  business,  wide  open.  We  would  make  a 
gentleman's  agreement  on  rates,  and  all  dey 
paid  I  'd  hand  over  to  de  City  Treasurer. 
De  result,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  taking  a  peep 
at  his  glass,  "would  be  dat  rich  mugs  all 
over  de  woild  would  hustle  to  New  York, 
where  only  crooks  paid  taxes.  Den  life," 
he  says,  "would  be  one  grand  sweet  song. 
Chames,"  he  says,  "is  anyting  holding  de 
bottle  down  in  de  cooler?" 

"Excuse  me,"  I  says,  as  I  put  some  bal 
last  in  his  schooner,  "excuse  me,  but  could 
I  trun  in  a  remark?" 

"It  is  likely,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "dat 
Chames  could  trun  light  on  de  subject  dat 
would  be  of  profit  and  use"— which  was 
72 


MR.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND  LEARNS 

what  de  gent  said  when  he  lifted  de  loidy's 
gold  watch. 

"  Proceed,  Chames,"  says  Whiskers. 
' l  Your  early  association  must  have  give  you 
some  knowledge  which  may  benefit  us,"  he 
says,  using  langwudge  what  would  jolt  a 
lawyer. 

"I  only  wishes  to  remark,"  I  says,  "dat 
Mr.  Paul's  plan  is  no  good." 

"Indeed!"  says  Mr.  Paul,  looking  as 
sprised  as  Little  Miss  Fannie  when  she  mis 
took  a  bumblebee  for  a  daisy.  "I  was  tink- 
ing  of  having  my  plan  copyrighted,  and 
making  a  drama  out  of  it,"  he  says. 
"What  's  wrong  wit  it?" 

"  If  de  police, ' '  I  says,  i '  is  not  in  on  your 
gents'  agreement  dey  would  cut  rates,  and 
swipe  all  de  business.  Excuse  me  if  I  re 
marks  dat  de  stuff  is  dere,  and  dey  is  bound 
to  get  it." 

Bote  gents  looked  at  me  like  I  'd  asked 
a  riddle,  and  dey  was  waiting  for  de  an 
swer.     Den  Whiskers  says,  "What  do  you 
mean  by  de  'stuff,'  Chames!" 
73 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

Say,  would  n't  dat  scare  you?  Whiskers 
gets  a  glass  arm  twice  a  year  cutting  off 
coupons,  but  he  was  n't  wise  enough  to  get 
next  to  me  meaning ! 

I  says  to  him,  like  I  was  n't  sprised  at  his 
ignorance,  "De  'stuff'  is  de  boodle  dat  de 
gang  what  runs  de  city  shakes  down  from 
de  crooks;  and  'dey'  is  de  shaker-downs." 

"Ah,"  says  Whiskers,  looking  as  pleased 
as  if  he  'd  found  a  fiver  in  de  pocket  of  a 
old  pair  of  jeans,  "you  mean  de  wicked 
Democrats ! ' ' 

"Sure,"  I  says.  "Of  course,  when  dey 
is  at  de  bat,  and  when  dey  is  out  I  mean  de 
wicked  Repub— 

"Chames!"  yells  Whiskers,  "you  is  not 
needed  any  longer.  Go  down  to  de  East 
River  and  see  which  way  de  tide  runs ! ' ' 

Well,  as  I  was  telling  you,  I  sinks  de  fiver 
Mr.  Paul  gives  me  for  de  new  dog  collar  in 
me  jeans,  and  I  tells  Duchess  dat  I  has  de 
price. 

"Give  it  to  me,  Chames,"  she  says.  "A 
74 


MR.  PAUL  INSTRUCTS  AND  LEARNS 

woman  always  buys  tings  cheaper  dan  a 
man,"  she  says,  "for  a  woman's  pride  is 
in  what  she  gets  for  de  price ;  a  man's,  in  de 
price  for  what  he  gets." 

So  we  skates  into  town,  and  when  I 
waltzes  off  about  me  errants  Duchess  lets  on 
dat  she  'd  get  de  dog  collar.  De  next  day 
de  pup  has  a  collar  on  dat  fitted  him  like 
Whiskers'  whiskers,  and  it  looked  most  un 
common  like  de  old  one. 

"It  is, "  says  Duchess,  when  I  says  it  was 
up  to  her  to  explain.  "What  do  you  men 
suppose  dat  buckle  on  de  collar  is  for — to 
make  de  collar  smaller?  Dat  's  just  like  a 
man,"  she  says.  "He  only  uses  a  buckle 
to  tighten  wit,"  she  says.  "It  woiks  bote 
ways,  Chames, ' '  she  says, ' '  and  I  let  it  out. ' ' 

"How  about  de  fiver,  Duchess!"  I  says. 
"De  long,  crisp,  clean,  green  bean  I  give 
you!"  I  says. 

1  i  I  has  sunk  it  in  me  bank,  Chames, ' '  she 
says.  "It  was  wort  dat  much  to  you  to 
learn  dat  a  buckle  lets  out  as  well  as  pulls 
75 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

in.  When  we  has  been  married  a  long,  long 
time,  mon  ami,  you  will  be  near  wise  enough 
to  be  me  husband, ' '  she  says. 

Say,  on  de  level,  is  dat  goil  a  wonder,  or 
am  I  a  farmer?     What? 


76 


VI 

SENTIMENTS   AND   INCOMES 


VI 

SENTIMENTS  AND   INCOMES 

'  T  OOK  here,  Duchess/'  I  says,  "what  's 
L/  up!  What  's  up  wit  Wily  Widdy?  If 
she  gets  too  next  wit  Whiskers,  Miss  Fannie 
plays  Mr.  Paul  to  her  so  as  to  break  up  de 
combination;  if  she  gets  too  next  wit  Mr. 
Paul,  den  Miss  Fannie  plays  Whiskers  to 
her  to  break  up  dat  combination.  Why," 
I  says,  "if  she  's  afraid  Whiskers  will  get 
hooked,  why  don't  Miss  Fannie  let  Mr.  Paul 
get  hooked,  and  call  it  a  draw?" 

Duchess  looked  at  me  like  she  was  won 
dering  wedder  it  was  wort  while  putting 
me  wise.  Dough  Duchess  is  forn,  she  's 
wiser  on  some  games  dan  if  she  'd  been  born 
on  de  Bowery.  I  spose  dat  's  because  she 
had  to  learn  to  speak  French  when  she  was 
a  little  goil.  Say,  it  must  be  great  brain 
79 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

excise  for  forn  kids  to  have  to  learn  forn 
langwudges  when  dey  is  young.  I  'in  learn 
ing  French  from  Duchess  now,  and,  say, 
it  's  no  cinch— and  I  'm  no  kid,  neider! 

Well,  she  looks  at  me,  and  she  says,  *  *  Mas 
ter  Chames, ' '  she  says,  ' '  do  you  know  your 
right  hand  from  your  left!77 

"Sure,"  I  says.  "You  leads  wit  your 
left,  and  you  swings  wit  your  right,  when 
you  has  a  chance  to  land  on  de  jaw.  I 
knows  me  right  hand  from  me  left,"  I  says. 

"Tres  bien,"  says  Duchess.  "But  dat 
is  more  dan  Miss  Fannie  knows." 

"What  for?"  I  says. 

"For  because,"  says  Duchess. 

Dat  's  de  way  wit  most  women.  Dey 
knows  some  tings  just  de  way  a  good  dog 
knows  when  you  is  up  again  your  luck. 
Dey  just  knows  it.  But  if  you  says  "how," 
dey  only  cocks  deir  eyes,  and  looks  lots,  but 
says  netting. 

"How  don't  she  know  her  right  hand 
from  her  left?"  I  says. 

"Dat  's  a  French  saying,"  says  Duchess, 
80 


SENTIMENTS  AND  INCOMES 

"and  means  dat  Miss  Fannie,  being  a  sis 
ter  to  Mr.  Paul,  don't  know  which  she  'd 
radder  not  have  de  woise— Madame  Hard 
ing  for  a  sister-in-law,  or  a  step-mudder. " 

Was  I  telling  you  dat  Wily  Widdy's  name 
is  "Harding"!  Duchess  calls  it  "Ar- 
dang." 

"If  I  could  tell  you  de  story  in  French," 
she  says,  "which  is  de  langwudge  of  sen 
sation"— sentiment?  Yes,  dat  's  it— "de 
langwudge  of  sentiment,  I  could  make  even 
you  understand,"  she  says.  "But,"  she 
says,  "English  is  only  fit  for  facts,  not  for 
fancies,"  she  says. 

Say,  when  a  goil  gets  talking  again  time 
a  man  better  go  on  his  way,  if  he  has  a  way 
—and  I  had  one. 

I  went  to  see  how  de  bull-dog  was  taking 
his  training.  Little  Miss  Fannie  said  de 
dog  must  be  entered  at  de  Bench  Show,  so 
Whiskers,  Mr.  Paul,  and  me,  all  tries  to  get 
it  fit  to  show.  It  was  no  use.  I  runned  me 
legs  off  giving  it  excise,  and  we  fed  it  fair, 
for  fair.  But  de  Little  One  would  hear  de 
o  81 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

dog  make  a  holler  for  more  feed,  and  she 
and  Miss  Fannie  would  sneak  to  de  stables 
and  stuff  it  wit  steak  till  it  was  as  poddy  as 
a  jug.  De  gents  jawed  Miss  Fannie  till 
she  promised  to  be  good,  but  at  de  next  hun 
gry  yelp  from  Towser  dey  'd  stuff  him  like 
a  sausage. 

"Baby  should  enter  Towser  for  de  fat 
prize,  Fannie, ' '  says  Wily  Widdy  when  she 
heard  de  story. 

' '  Dat  's  a  good  tip, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  De 
noble  animal  shall  be  entered  special  by  him 
self,  and  I  '11  see  dat  he  gets  a  prize." 

Wily  Widdy  herself  took  enough  prizes 
at  de  show  to  start  a  prize-package  game 
wit.  Dat  's  pretty  good  woik  for  a  loidy 
what  's  always  making  a  holler  dat  she 
has  n't  a  penny  in  her  jeans.  Dere  must 
be  different  kinds  of  pennies  for  different 
kinds  of  people.  De  kind  de  Widdy  ain't 
got  would  open  a  bank  down  where  I  know 
people  who  ain't  got  none  of  de  odder  kind. 

Well,  we  puts  Towser  in  de  show,  and 
Little  Miss  Fannie  and  her  noisse-goil  goes 
82 


SENTIMENTS  AND   INCOMES 

to  hear  what  folks  says.  Some  asks  when 
was  it  to  be  killed;  some,  was  n't  it  being 
starved  to  deat,  poor  ting;  some  asks  what 
patent  fodder  was  it  booming. 

When  1  takes  de  dog  home  Mr.  Paul  gives 
me  a  box  of  candy  to  give  to  Little  Miss 
Fannie,  wit  a  yarn  dat  it  was  de  prize  it 
wins.  De  kid  was  as  chesty  as  Widdy  was 
wit  her  bunch  of  real-ting  prizes. 

Listen!  I  says  to  Duchess  dat  Widdy 
must  be  stacking  a  bluff  when  she  passes 
out  her  song  and  dance  about  being  shy 
on  long  green.  "Even  widdies,"  I  says, 
"can't  run  a  stable  and  a  kennel  on  wind, 
wit  no  dust  in  it,"  I  says. 

"Madame  Harding  has  one  hundred  tou- 
sand  francs  a  year,"  says  Duchess. 

"How  much  is  dat  in  money!"  I  says. 

"Twenty  tousand  dollars,"  she  says, 
"and  dat  's  every  cent  she  has." 

"Dat   's  fierce  luck,"  I  says.     "Let  us 
take  up  a  prescription  for  her,  or  she   '11 
fetch  up  in  de  Free  Lodging  House  before 
de  robbins  nest  again,"  I  says. 
83 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

"And  dat  's  no  joke,"  says  Duchess,  who 
sometimes  talks  real  American.  "Madame 
has  a  hard  time  paying  her  bills.  Her  maid 
is  a  fren  of  mine,  so  I  knows." 

"How  much  has  we,  den,  if  you  knows 
so  much?"  I  says. 

"We  has  one  hundred  and  twenty  tou- 
sand  dollars  a  year,"  says  Duchess,  like  she 
was  reading  out  of  a  book.  "M'sieu  Van 
Courtlandt  has  one  hundred  tousand,  and 
M'sieu  Burton  has  twenty  tousand.  So 
M'sieu  Burton  pays  his  own  expenses,  and 
M'sieu  Van  Courtlandt  pays  his  own  and 
Miss  Fannie 's.  He  is  a  lucky  f  adder, ' '  says 
Duchess,  "to  have  a  son-in-law  what  don't 
cost  him  netting.  But  Miss  Fannie  would 
done  better  to  take  M'sieu  Paul,  who  has 
fifty  tousand  a  year." 

"Why  did  n't  she  take  him,  den?  He 
can  box  better  dan  Mr.  Burton,"  I  says. 

"Bah  de  box!"  says  Duchess.  "It  was 
de  Widdy." 

"De  Widdy  again!"  I  says.     "She  has 
a  strong  drag  on  our  push.     What  is  it!" 
84 


SENTIMENTS  AND   INCOMES 

"Me  dear,"  says  Duchess,  "you  has  no 
head  for  such  affair,  but  I  '11  try  to  explain, 
because  it  is  shame  for  a  valet  to  know  so 
little  as  you  about  his  people." 

"I  knows  me  place,"  I  says. 

"So  does  a  hat-rack,"  she  says.  "At 
tend,  mon  enfant:  Miss  Fannie  accept  Mr. 
Burton  for  she  tink  Mr.  Paul  was  an  mieux 
wit  Madame  Harding." 

Wait!  dat  's  on  de  level— dat  an  mieux. 
It  means  when  a  mug  looks  like  he  had  a 
steady. 

"What  good  did  it  do  Mr.  Paul  for  Miss 
Fannie  to  take  Mr.  Burton?"  I  says. 

"She  did  n't  do  it  for  Mr.  Paul's  good," 
says  Duchess.  "She  done  it  for  revenge, 
for  him  being— tiens!  votre  mot— attentive 
to  Madame  Harding.  American  women  is 
very  foolish.  If  Miss  Fannie  had  took  Mr. 
Paul,  dat  would  been  proper  revenge— re 
venge  on  de  odder  woman ! ' ' 

"Sure,"  I  says.  "It  was  de  Widdy  she 
was  gunning  for." 

"Of  a  soitainty,"  says  Duchess.     "But 
85 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

Miss  Fannie  lias  kept  Madame  Harding 
from  marrying  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  or  Mr. 
Paul,  and  dat's  some  consolation,  I  spose." 

"Is  Widdy  on  to  dat?"  I  says. 

"Is  she  a  widdy?"  says  Duchess. 

"Den  why  don't  she  rig.  some  graft  she 
can  woik, ' '  I  says,  * '  instead  of  sitting  into  a 
game  where  she  can't  cut  de  cards?" 

"Why  don't  you  stop  trying  to  keep  your 
money  from  me?"  says  Duchess,  wit  a 
laugh.  ' '  You  know  you  can 't,  but  you  keeps 
trying  because  de  game  is  hard.  Madame 
Harding  don't  have  to  marry— her  necessi 
ties  is  not  so  great  as  dat!— for  she  can  get 
along,  in  a  way,  wit  her  twenty  tousand  a 
year.  De  hope  of  beating  out  Miss  Fannie 
in  de  end  is  more  amusement  for  Madame 
dan  marrying  any  of  de  bunch  she  could 
have  by  lifting  an  eyelid.  If  I  was  n't  Miss 
Fannie 's  maid  I  would  tell  Madame  how 
she  could  win." 

"How?"  I  says. 

"Madame  should  not  remain  in  love  wit 
Mr.  Paul,"  says  Duchess.     "A  woman  in 
86 


SENTIMENTS   AND   INCOMES 

love  cannot  play  de  marriage  game  smart. 
If  Miss  Fannie  saw  dat  Madame  was  not  in 
love  wit  Mr.  Paul,  she  would  not  be  so 
watchful.  Madame  could  catch  Miss  Fan 
nie— what  you  say!— off  guard,  and  marry 
Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  alive  before  one  could 
cry,  'Stop  tief !'  C'est  tout  un  drame!" 

On  de  level,  did  you  ever  hear  such  non 
sense  as  dose!  Dere  ain't  netting  tricky 
about  Miss  Fannie— not  even  wit  de  Widdy. 
If  anybody  in  dis  woild  is  on  de  dead  level, 
it  's  Miss  Fannie;  and  I  would  n't  let  Duch 
ess  tell  no  more  of  her  pipe  dream. 

"On  your  way!"  I  says  to  her.  "Your 
bonnet  is  full  of  lectric  fans,"  I  says.  "If 
Miss  Fannie  told  Mr.  Paul  she  'd  be  a  sister 
to  him,  dat  score-card  has  been  turned  in, 
and  dere  ain't  no  ninteent  hole  to  play, 
neider. ' ' 

"To  be  sure,"  says  Duchess.  "Of 
course,"  she  says.  "Of  a  soitainty,"  says 
she,  and  shrugs  her  shoulders  so  dat  I  chases 
to  find  Maggie,  de  housemaid,  to  have  a  sen 
sible  goil  to  talk  wit. 
87 


CHIMMIE   FADDBN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

I  did  n't  find  Maggie,  but  I  finds  Mr. 
Paul's  Chapanese  valet  asking  was  Mr.  Paul 
to  our  house. 

"What  for,  Chappy?"  I  says. 

"Mrs.  Harding  telephone  if  Mr.  Paul 
dine  wit  her  dis  evening,"  says  Chap. 

"I  '11  see  is  he  here,"  I  says,  and  goes 
and  asks  Miss  Fannie,  telling  her  de  mes 
sage  de  Chap  valet  fetches. 

"No,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "Mr.  Paul  has 
not  been  here  to-day.  By  de  way,  Charaes, ' ' 
she  says,  "did  I  give  you  a  message  dis 
morning  to  take  to  Mr.  Paul?" 

'/Not  as  I  remembers,"  I  says. 

"I  may  forgot  it,"  she  says.  "You  '11 
find  him  at  de  club." 

"What  's  de  message,  if  you  please?" 
I  says. 

"Did  n't  I  mention  it?  Tell  him  we  ex 
pect  him  to  dinner  dis  evening.  Be  spry, 
as  I  dislike  to  bore  men  wit  messages  late 
in  de  afternoon." 

Say,  I  was  spry,  all  right;  so  spry  I  for 
got  all  about  telling  de  Chap  where  his  mas- 
88 


SENTIMENTS   AND   INCOMES 

ter  was.  But  listen :  when  I  gets  to  de  club 
Mr.  Paul  was  n  't  bored  a  little  bit.  He  was 
tickled  to  deat,  and  writes  Miss  Fannie  a 
note  saying  dat  he  was  in  on  de  feed.  Den 
he  says,  "Chames,"  he  says,  "stop  to  my 
place  and  tell  dat  ornamental— no,  Orien 
tal—young  man  of  mine  dat  if  any  one 
phones  for  me,  to  answer  dat  I  has  a  dinner 
engagement  for  dis  evening." 

I  forgot  to  tell  him  dat  I  knowed  de  phone 
had  already  came. 

I  was  just  as  forgetful  dat  day  as  Miss 
Fannie  was.  See? 


89 


VII 
A  DAY  OUT  WITH  DUCHESS 


VII 
A   DAY   OUT   WITH   DUCHESS 

OKCE  in  a  while  I  meets  one  of  me  old 
gang  what  gives  me  a  guff  about 
being  a  valet.  "What  good  is  you?"  he 
says.  "Why  don't  you  get  a  gent's  job, 
tending  bar,  or  someting  high-toned,  like 
dat!"  he  says.  "You  has  no  indepen 
dence,"  he  says.  "You  is  no  better  dan  a 
slave.  You  never  has  no  fun,  no  more. 
You,  wit  your  French  wife !  Say, ' '  he  says, 
"what  's  de  matter  wit  a  Bowery  goil  dat  's 
fly  enough  to  give  you  a  jolly  once  in  a 
while,  in  American  style?"  he  says. 

I  has  no  time  to  waste  on  a  mug  of  his 
kind,  so  I  only  gives  him  a  punch  in  de 
jaw,  and  let  it  go  at  dat.  He  ain't  on  to  me 
game,  and  has  n't  brains  in  his  coco  to  tum 
ble  if  I  tried  to  put  him  wise.  We  gets  our 
bit  of  fun  out  of  dis  wicked  woild,  me  and 
93 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

Duchess,  and  I  don't  see  many  wise  guys 
tumbling  over  each  odder  trying  to  get  any- 
ting  else  out  of  it.  What? 

Even  if  she  is  French,  Duchess  was  n't 
born  in  Hoboken,  nor  yesterday.  I  used  to 
tink  she  was  n't  as  fly  as  Maggie  de  house 
maid;  but  I  had  a  chance  to  guess  again 
on  dat. 

Listen :  de  odder  afternoon  we  was  taking 
de  air  for  our  healt,  and  Duchess  says, 
'  *  Cheemie, ' '  she  says,  ' '  let  us  stroll  over  to 
Broadway,  and  see  does  de  cars  still  run 
bote  ways  on  ce  joli  boulevard." 

4 'Sure,"  I  says.  "It  's  a  pitty  Maggie 
is  n't  wit  us  to  jolly  de  Broadway  cops  for 
fair, ' '  I  says.  Duchess  says  netting. 

Say,  on  de  level,  Broadway  is  de  sweet 
est  little  old  lane  dat  ever  had  a  toining. 
I  likes  de  Avenoo  for  sornetings,  dough.  I 
sees  more  of  me  frens  dere,  to  tip  de  wink, 
holding  down  de  carriage  seats;  and  Duch 
ess  sees  more  forn  styles  dere.  But  when 
it  comes  to  free  vaudeville  and  mellow 
drama,  mixed,  wit  living  toins  done  by  real 
94 


A  DAY  OUT  WITH  DUCHESS 

artists;  when  it  comes  to  gags  to  make  you 
laugh  on  one  block  and  pump  weeps  to  your 
peepers  de  next;  when  it  comes  to  de  real 
rattle,  slap,  bang  of  Manhattan;  de  quick 
joke  and  suddent  jolt;  de  con  man  and 
come-on ;  men  who  is  wild-eyed  because  dey 
has  n't  a  green  wafer  between  'em  and  a 
jump  from  de  Bridge,  and  men  who  is  wild- 
eyed  because  dere  is  n't  ways  to  get  rid  of 
deir  wafers  fast  enough,  den  de  crooked  lit 
tle  lane  dey  calls  Broadway  is  de  limit,  for 
fair. 

So  we  side-steps  from  de  Avenoo,  and 
mixes  up  wit  de  gang  what  was  keeping  de 
grass  from  growing  on  B.y.  I  tips  Duchess 
off  to  a  cop  I  knows  on  a  corner;  she  gives 
me  a  nudge  to  play  stranger,  waltzes  up 
to  de  copper,  fetches  him  a  paralyzing  smile, 
and  says,  "Pardon,  M'sieu  1'Officier,  is  dis 
Broadway?" 

"Yes,  loidy,"  he  says,  trunning  out  his 
chest. 

"Dear  me,"  says  Duchess,  "what  is  it 
doing?" 

95 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND  MR.  PAUL 

Copper  gets  leery  to  see  was  it  a  jolly, 
but  Duchess  had  on  a  baby  stare  what  made 
her  look  like  she  would  n't  know  de  differ 
ence  between  dis  and  dat.  So  he  says,  fad- 
derly  like,  "You  mean  where  is  it  going?" 

"No,"  says  Duchess;  "why  does  it  go?" 

' '  It  has  to, ' '  says  copper.  « <  It  runs  from 
Bowling  Green  to  Yonkers  every  day." 

"Mon  Dieu,"  says  Duchess,  "it  must  be 
fast!" 

"It  never  gets  left,  all  right,"  he  says, 
getting  more  brodderly  dan  fadderly. 

"Which  is  de  best,"  she  says,  "Bowling 
Green  or  Yonkers?" 

"For  what?"  says  he. 

"For  fair,"  says  Duchess. 

"A  nickel  is  de  fare  for  Bowling  Green," 
he  says. 

"I  'd  rather  pay  de  price  for  bowling 
red,"  says  Duchess.  "Is  dey  bowling 
now!"  she  says. 

"Who?"  says  he. 

"De  people  what  bowls,"  she  says. 

"Say,  young  woman,"  says  copper,  "if 
96 


A   DAY   OUT   WITH  DUCHESS 

you  want  to  cross  Broadway  I  '11  take  you 
over;  but  I  can't  stop  here  answering  fool 
questions  no  longer,"  he  says. 

"I  '11  stick  to  its  side,  poor  ting,"  says 
Duchess.  "It  would  feel  bad  if  I  crossed 
it.  I  hates  to  be  crossed— even  in  love, ' '  she 
says. 

Copper  was  wondering  would  he  turn  in 
a  ambulance  call  or  rap  for  help,  so  I  steps 
up  and  says,  "It  's  all  right,  Kelly,"  dat 
being  his  name.  "If  you  is  too  shy  to  chat 
wit  dis  party  I  '11  take  her  off  your  hands," 
I  says.  "Loidy,"  I  says  to  Duchess,  "hook 
to  me  elbow,"  I  says,  "and  we  '11  chase 
down  de  line.  Clutch!"  I  says. 

I  taut  dat  would  call  game,  wit  de  laugh 
on  Kelly;  but,  p'chee!  Duchess  turns  on 
me  like  de  herwin  in  a  play,  and  says,  "Sir! 
how  do  you  dare?" 

"What  's  doing,  Chimmie!"  says  Kel. 

"Notting  doing,"  I  says,  giving  Duch 
ess  de  wink  to  switch  her  wire. 

"Officer,"  says  Duchess,  "dis  man  has 
me  pocket-book.    Arrest  him!"  she  says. 
'  97 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

Say,  I  did  have  it;  right  in  me  hand,  too. 
It  looked  like  I  was  caught  wit  de  goods  on 
me.  Kelly  looked  at  it,  at  me,  at  Duchess. 
Den  he  took  off  his  lid  to  scratch  his  head, 
and  he  says:  "Why,  loidy,  dis  young  man 
just  now  picked  up  your  pocket-book,  where 
you  dropped  it.  I  seen  him."  Wit  dat  he 
passes  me  a  wise  wink  like  he  was  giving 
me  a  chance,  if  I  'd  swiped  de  boodle,  to 
square  meself. 

' '  Hully  chee ! "  I  says.  ' '  De  copper  tinks 
I  swiped  de  kettle.  Get  level,  Duchess,  or 
he  'li  run  me  in.  Get  level!" 

Duchess  hands  me  a  haughty  stare, 
fetches  Kel  a  bow,  and  says,  ' '  I  has  not  de 
honor  of  knowing  dis  young  man,  but  I  '11 
try  to  reform  him." 

She  takes  me  elbow,  we  strikes  a  gait  up 
de  lane,  and  leaves  Kel  wondering  wedder 
it  was  yesterday,  to-day,  or  to-morrow. 

"What  is  de  answer?"  I  says  to  Duchess. 

"One  hears  much  about  what  a  smart 
young  woman  Maggie  is, ' '  says  she.    i '  Some 
one  else  is  stupid,  eh?" 
98 


A  DAY   OUT   WITH   DUCHESS 

"I  'm  out,"  I  says.  "Count  ten.  You  is 
fly,  all  right." 

"Why  you  never  say  so?"  says  she. 
"Why  always  is  it  Maggie  who  fly  is?" 

"Oh,  she  's  only  Maggie,"  says  I. 

"You  mean  she  not  much  is,  eh!  Very 
well;  but  remember,  mon  ami,  dat  it  is  a 
foolish  husband  who  praise  odder  goils  to 
his  wife.  It  cause  less  trouble  to  a  man  to 
praise  a  woman  to  her  own  face  dan  to 
praise  her  to  his  wife's  face.  Dat  is  not 
English  saying,  but  it  is  true.  Was  all  de 
clever  goils  born  in  America,  eh?"  she  says. 

"De  horse  is  on  me,  me  dear,"  I  says. 
"If  you  '11  lend  me  de  price  I  '11  blow  you 
off  to  a  bottle  of  beer  and  a  lobster." 

"No,7'  says  Duchess.  "It  is  waste  of 
money  for  a  married  woman  to  buy  lobstair. 
Let  us  go  where  one  can  see  de  fashions, 
and  I  '11  buy  tea." 

"Tea  is  medicine,"  I  says. 

"Woise!"  she  says.  "It  is  poison.  But 
where  it  is  soive  dis  time  in  de  afternoon 
one  sees  de  latest  gowns  brought  from  Paris 
99 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

to  New  York  by  les  belles  dames  de  Chee- 
cago. ' ' 

t  i  What  's  de  matter  wit  de  belles  of  New 
York?"  I  says. 

'  *  Dey  is  no  such  foolish  tings, ' '  says  she. 
"Dey  lets  Cheecago  belles  pay  de  govern 
ment  fines  for  buying  gowns  in  Paris— den 
copies  de  fashions." 

"Dere  is  no  Maudie  Miillers  gaddering 
hayseed  on  dis  island,  sure,"  I  says. 

Well,  we  breaks  into  a  swell  tea-room, 
where  dere  was  Dagos,  dressed  like  mon 
keys,  playing  forn  banjos  behind  some 
bushes,  wit  now  and  den  a  song  trim  in  to 
boot.  Dere  was  about  a  million  women 
drinking  tea  like  it  was  good,  and  my,  my ! 
how  dey  was  chinning.  Dere  was  a  small 
bunch  of  men  dere,  too,  and  dey  looked  like 
de  tea  was  n't  so  woise. 

"P'chee,  Duchess,"  I  says,  "since  Sir 
Tummis  did  n't  lift  de  yacht  cup  all  Amer 
ica  is  making  good  for  him  by  lifting  his 
tea-cups. ' ' 

Duchess  only  laughs;  and  when  a  waiter 
100 


A  DAY   OUT   WITH  DUCHESS, .. 

says  what  would  be  ours  she  gives  him  de 
order  in  French.  Soon  he  chases  back  wit 
a  tea  lay-out,  only  de  cups  was  shy,  on  size. 

i 'Put  all  de  sugar  and  milk  dat  's  com 
ing  to  me  in  me  foist  cup,  Duchess, ' '  I  says, 
"for  dat  's  de  only  part  of  tea  dat  is  n't 
knock-out  drops  to  me." 

She  pours  a  cup  and  hands  it  over  wit- 
out  a  woid.  Honest,  I  taut  foist  it  was  cold 
tea,  and  no  milk  nor  sugar,  at  dat.  Just  as 
I  was  going  to  make  a  holler  I  gets  a  sniff 
of  it,  and  I  tumbles.  It  was  all  right  for 
fair,  and  dere  was  no  kick  coming  to  my 
side  of  de  table. 

"Dis  is  de  popular  brand  of  winter  tea," 
says  Duchess.  '  *  If  it  was  mixed  wit  French, 
instead  of  Italian,  vermoot,  it  would  suit  me 
taste  better. ' ' 

"  Is  de  whole  bunch  here  drinking  de  same 
goods!"  I  says. 

"Shopping,    matinees,    calling,    is    hard 
woik,"  she  says,  "and  de  loidies  you  see 
here  has  all  been  doing  such  tings.     Dis 
brand  of  tea  restores  deir  noives." 
101 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"If  dey  needs  it,"  I  says,  "why  not  or 
der  it  on  de  level?  What  's  de  use  playing 
a  con  game,  when  nobody  is  conned  f' 

' '  For  a  married  man  you  is  de  most  igno- 
rankist  about  women  I  ever  see,"  she  says. 
"Woman  is  too  implicated"— no,  compli 
cated — "women  is  too  complicated  to  enjoy 
anyting  dat  is  not  secret." 

Well,  I  was  having  de  time  of  me  life 
wit  de  cup  of  tea,  and  was  trying  to  rig  a 
graft  what  would  jolly  Duchess  to  stand 
for  anodder  treat,  when  I  sees  Whiskers  and 
Widdy  float  in  and  collar  a  corner  table. 
Say,  I  tink  widdies  would  get  lost  if  it 
was  n't  for  corners.  You  finds  'em  in  cor 
ners,  wedder  you  is  looking  for  'em  or  not. 
Duchess  says  we  must  chase;  for  if  Whis 
kers  cops  us  dere  he  'd  jaw  de  heads  off 
us  for  not  knowing  our  places.  So  we 
chases. 

I  knowed  I  'd  find  our  carriage  outside  if 

Whiskers  was  inside,  and  I  did.     I  calls  it 

up,  telling  Duchess  dat  she  'd  been  a  good 

goil,  so  I  'd  take  her  home  in  style.     I  told 

102 


A  DAY   OUT   WITH   DUCHESS 

coachy  dat  I  'd  take  his  place  on  de  box  de 
next  time  he  wanted  a  day  off  if  he  'd  take 
us  home  and  get  back  before  Whiskers 
wanted  him.  It  was  n't  far,  so  in  we  bun 
dles  ;  and  we  was  n  't  de  foist  maid  and  valet 
dat  's  played  dat  game  on  de  Avenoo,  neider. 

Just  as  we  were  leaving  de  carriage,  a 
couple  of  doors  below  ours,  de  housekeeper, 
walking  home,  cops  us.  My,  my!  but  she 
ragged  us  good.  She  swore  she  'd  tell 
Whiskers  and  have  us  trim  out  of  our  jobs 
for  impudent  rascals.  I  taut  to  meself  dat 
de  jig  was  up  for  fair,  but  Duchess  says, 
"Why,  Housekeeper,"  she  says,  "what  a 
lovely  hat  you  has  on !  If  you  'd  let  me  fix 
de  fedder  and  de  bow  a  little,  you  could  n't 
tell  it  from  one  I  just  see  on  de  beautiful 
Countess  d'Umsky.  Could  she,  Cheemes!" 

' '  Housekeeper, ' '  I  says,  *  *  let  Duchess  fix 
your  lid,  and  you  '11  be  a  dead  ringer  for 
de  Countess." 

"Well,"  she  says,  "come  into  my  room, 
Hortense,  and  try  what  you  can  do  for  me 

hat." 

103 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Let  Cheemes  come,  too,"  says  Duchess. 
'  *  We  has  walked  so  far  we  is  faint  wit  hun 
ger,"  she  says. 

"You  is  de  impudentest  soivants  on  de 
place,"  says  housekeeper,  when  we  was  in 
her  room,  Duchess  rigging  de  hat  to  beat 
de  band,  "but  I  '11  not  tell  on  you  dis  time," 
she  says. 

"Look  at  dear  old  Housekeeper!"  says 
Duchess,  putting  de  hat  on  de  old  loidy's 
head  and  giving  it  an  upper  cut  dat  made 
it  look  like  ready  money. 

' '  She  looks  like  de  Queen  of  Ireland.  It  's 
good  you  caught  me  early,  Duchess,"  I 
says. 

Well,  after  dat  we  did  n't  have  a  ting 
wit  de  housekeeper  but  chicken  pie,  plum 
pudding,  and  sherry.  Say,  it  was  a  close 
call,  dough. 

A  story!  No,  I  Ve  been  chinning  too 
long  about  a  day  out  wit  Duchess.  As  I 
was  telling  you,  we  gets  a  bit  of  fun  out  of 
dis  wicked  woild,  but  sometimes  me  hair 
toins  gray  getting  it. 

104 


VIII 
A  TENEMENT   THANKSGIVING 


VIII 
A   TENEMENT   THANKSGIVING 

'  \  MR  dear,"  says  Miss  Fannie  to  Mr. 
IVl  Burton,  her  hubby,  "are  you  going 
wit  me  to-morrow  ?" 

"What  's  to-morrow!"  says  he. 

"It  's  me  annual  Tanksgiving  call  on 
me  old  f rens  in  de  tenements, ' '  she  says. 

Mr.  Burton  looks  so  weary  you  would  n  't 
ask  him  to  hold  his  breat,  and  he  says,  i '  Me 
dear  Fannie, ' '  he  says,  i  i  it  gives  me  a  head 
ache  in  me  head  to  go  to  de  tenements. 
Chames  is  your  proper  escort,  if  you  must 
do  such  foolishness." 

"Let  me  go,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  was 
tinking  of  ending  me  life,"  he  says,  "hav 
ing  done  everyting  else  I  could  tink  of;  but 
if  you  '11  take  me  along  slumming  wit  you, 
Fannie,"  he  says,  "it  will  brace  me  droop 
ing  spirits." 

107 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"Dat  's  a  good  chap,  Paul,"  says  Mr. 
Burton.  "Go  wit  Fannie  in  me  place,  and 
I  '11  do  someting  nice  for  you  one  day," 
he  says. 

It  's  de  way  wit  most  tings  dat  Miss  Fan- 
nit  does  like  dat.  Mr.  Burton  gets  cold  feet, 
and  Mr.  Paul  sits  into  de  game  in  his  place. 
I  says  dat  to  Duchess,  and  she  says,  "Cold 
at  de  feet,  eh?  I  has  de  honor  to  obsoive," 
she  says,  "dat  it  is  unwise  for  gentlemen 
to  get  cold  feet  when  hearts  is  trumps." 

Duchess,  being  a  forn  goil,  don't  know 
dat  dere  ain't  no  trumps  in  poker— and 
poker  is  de  only  game  what  gives  cold  feet. 

Remember  me  telling  you  long  time  ago 
dat  Miss  Fannie  was  a  teacher  in  a  mission 
school  where  I  used  to  live!  She  cut  loose 
from  de  charity  game  as  a  steady  job  when 
she  was  married,  but  every  Tanksgiving 
she  swings  round  me  old  ward,  visiting 
hard-luck  cases  I  hears  of.  Tf  it  was  n't 
for  her,  dere's  a  lot  of  'em  down  dere  what 
would  tink  Tanksgiving  was  de  great  Amer 
ican  joke.  And  dat  's  no  joke,  too. 
108 


A  TENEMENT   THANKSGIVING 

Well,  Tanksgiving  morning  we  starts 
out,  me  on  de  box  wit  coacliy,  and  Miss 
Fannie  and  Mr.  Paul  inside  wit  so  many 
bundles  we  looks  like  a  delivery  wagon  at 
Christmas-time. 

After  we  called  and  said  "howdy"  and 
left  bundles  at  a  lot  of  old  folks,  where  Mr. 
Paul  jollied  de  game  till  dey  forgot  dey  was 
up  against  it,  we  went  to  a  woman  I  knowed 
of,  what  was  playing-  in  de  hardest  luck 
ever.  Honest,  she  ain't  much  older  dan 
Miss  Fannie,  but  she  's  a  widely  wit  five  kids, 
de  biggest  of  'em  about  Little  Miss  Fan 
nie 's  size.  De  widdy  earns  de  price  of  life 
selling  poipers  by  Brooklyn  Bridge;  so  she 
was  all  right  till  she  took  sick  and  could  n't 
sell  de  extras.  But  she  sold  about  every- 
ting  else  she  had,  to  get  grub  for  de  kids. 
I  heard  de  story,  and  T  touched  Duchess 
for  a  fiver  and  put  de  widdy  on  Easy  Street. 
T  knew  she  'd  be  to  de  end  of  de  street  by 
Tanksgiving,  so  I  told  Miss  Fannie  about 
her. 

Well,   we  climbs  up  to  her  place,   four 
109 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

flights,  two  rooms  back,  and  who  do  you 
tink  lets  us  in?  me  old  fren  Mrs.  Murphy! 
I  had  de  basket  of  grub,  Mr.  Paul  de  bun 
dle  of  warm  tings  to  wear,  and  Miss  Fannie 
a  big  bunch  of  dose  raggy  flowers  wit  de 
dinky  name,  what  smells  bitter  and  sweet— 
chris— chrisum— well,  call  'em  Chris  An 
dersons,  and  let  it  go  at  dat.  When  Mur 
phy  sees  us  she  says  to  de  widdy,  what  was 
in  bed,  "Look  a-here,  dearie,"  she  says, 
"here  's  de  divvil's  own,  Chimmie  Fadden, 
witout  a  track  nor  yet  a  lecture  for  yez,  but 
wit  jist  wicked  food  from  Miss  Fannie  for 
youse  and  de  little  ones ;  here  's  Small  Bot 
tles,  wit  nary  a  'Precipt  f'r  de  Poor/  but 
on'y  a  bundle  of  warm  tings  f'r  youse  and 
de  kids  to  wear;  and  here  's  Miss  Fannie, 
hersilf,  smiling,  like  a  saint— but  de  wicked 
woman  has  n't  a  sermon  at  all,  on'y  a  bunch 
of  flooers  f'r  to  cheer  yez  wit." 

Say,  when  Murphy  starts  talking  you 
could  n't  shut  her  up  wit  a  cotton-press. 

"Good  morning,  me  dear,"  says  Miss 
Fannie  to  de  widdy.  "I  'm  glad  you  has 
110 


A  TENEMENT  THANKSGIVING 

such  a  cheerful  companion  as  Mrs.  Murphy 
wit  you." 

"I  'm  not  de  on'y  cheerful  wan  dat  's 
been  here  to-day, ' '  says  Murphy.  *  *  We  had 
a  gang  of  callers  here  already ;  and  dey  wept 
and  lectured  and  left  tracks." 

"Tracks?"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Here  's  wan  of  'em,"  says  Murphy, 
handing  Mr.  Paul  a  track  wit  reading  on 
it.  "Precipts  for  de  Poor,"  it  was  called. 

Miss  Fannie  shed  her  bonnet  and  coat, 
spread  de  flowers  around  de  room,  and  got 
busy  wit  de  bundles ;  while  Mr.  Paul  peeps 
at  de  track  like  he  was  tickled  to  deat  wit  it. 

"Me  good  woman,"  he  says,  shaking  de 
track  at  de  widdy,  "I  suspect  you  has  been 
improvident,"  he  says.  "How,"  he  says, 
"has  you  re-invested  your  dividends? 
What  use  has  you  made  of  de  rich  rewards 
of  your  labors?" 

"I  do  not  understand,"  says  de  widdy, 
looking  scared. 

"Paul,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "be  sensible." 

"Fannie,"  he  says,  "never  before  in 
111 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   ME.  PAUL 

me  life  has  I  been  sensible.  Have  you 
wasted  your  wealt  in  riotous  living,"  he 
asks  de  widdy,  * '  or  played  de  races  ? ' ' 

"She  's  a  awful  spendtrift,"  says  Mur 
phy,  winking  at  Mr.  Paul.  "Manny  's  de 
time,"  she  says,  "I  has  begged  her  to  soak 
away  part  of  her  earnings— if  on'y  five  dol 
lars  a  day— in  de  saving-bank.  But  what 
says  she  !  She  says  she  earns  on  'y  five  dol 
lars  a  week!" 

"A  weak  subterfuse!"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"How  many  children  has  you  I"  he  says  to 
de  widdy. 

* '  Five,  praise  de  saints  ! ' '  says  she. 

"Only  five!"  he  says.  "Den  if  you 
wastes  all  your  earnings  pampering  'em 
wit  luxuries  you  is  self-convicted  of  wicked 
waste.  Dis  track,"  he  says,  "proves  dat 
tree  dollars  a  week  is  easy  going  for  a  fam 
ily  of  six, ' '  he  says. 

"It  would  be  enough,"  de  widdy  says, 

"if  it  was  n't  for  a  doctor  for  de  baby,  and 

medicine,  and— and  dere  was  days  I  was  n't 

strong  enough  to  woik,  and— and— oh,  sir, 

112 


A  TENEMENT  THANKSGIVING 

I  tries  to  be  saving,  but  rent  day  comes, 
and  sometimes  a  neighbor  has  n't  anyting, 
and  we  helps  each  odder." 

"Listen  to  de  wretch  make  excuses  for 
de  sins  dat  's  on  her ! ' '  says  Murphy.  i  i  She 
confessed  de  same  shameful  troots  to  de  od 
der  callers,  but  all  de  same  de  kind  souls 
left  her  de  track  to  show  dat  dey  forgive 
her." 

"We  should  practise  economy— even  in 
tracks,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

Wit  dat  Miss  Fannie  orders  us  to  chase 
ourselves,  while  she  and  Murphy  fixes  de 
kids  in  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  duds.  When 
we  gets  to  de  street  Mr.  Paul  says,  "Quick, 
Chames,  take  me  to  de  best  restaurant  on  de 
Bowery.  Dose  tings  in  our  basket  is  jellies 
and  jams  and  puddins  and  dinky  stuff. 
Having  took  me  degree  as  Doctor  of  Phi 
losophy,  I  know  what  kind  of  medicine  is 
wanted  in  dat  widdy's  room." 

I  never  saw  Mr.  Paul  get  such  a  move 
on,  except  when  I  gives  him  boxing-lessons. 
We  hustles  to  de  restaurant,  where  he  buys 
8  113 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

a  whole  roast  toikey,  and  puts  it  in  de  car 
riage  in  its  warming-pan— coachy  near  fell 
off  de  box  wit  shame— and  we  fills  a  big 
basket  wit  hot  vegetables,  mince-pies,  celery, 
nuts,  raisins,  and  I  don't  know  what  be 
sides.  When  we  got  back,  Miss  Fannie  and 
Murphy  had  de  kids  scrubbed  and  dressed ; 
de  widdy  was  sitting  up  in  one  of  Miss  Fan 
nie  's  easy  gowns,  tea  was  making,  and  tings 
was  joyful  for  fair. 

Mr.  Paul  and  me  never  peeps  a  woid,  but 
rushes  de  toik  and  vegetables  and  tings  on 
de  table,  and  den  Mr.  Paul,  sitting  on  a 
basket  at  one  end,  says  to  de  widdy,  "Ma 
dam  is  served.'' 

Honest,  you  should  seen  de  kids!  Deir 
eyes  near  pops  outter  deir  heads  when  Mr. 
Paul  begins  carving.  Murphy  and  me  waits 
on  table,  Miss  Fannie  cuts  up  toik  for  de 
youngsters,  and  makes  a  plate  for  de  widdy. 
De  kids  was  scared,  foist,  but  Mr.  Paul  says 
dat  de  one  what  eat  de  most  toik  could 
have  de  most  raisins,  and  den  dey  sails  in 
like  dey  never  had  a  chance  to  eat  all  dey 
114 


A  TENEMENT   THANKSGIVING 

wants  before  in  deir  lives.    It  ain't  no  sure 
bet  dat  dey  ever  did. 

I  'd  sneaked  some  beer  in  de  restaurant, 
and  when  Murphy  and  me  had  wished  de 
top  of  de  morning  to  each  odder  over  a 
glass  or  two,  and  when  de  kids  was  as 
poddy  as  so  many  little  puppies,  and  when 
de  widdy  was  smiling  and  looking  so  fit  we 
could  see  she  was  taking  de  right  medicine, 
all  right,  Mr.  Paul  says,  "Now,  loidies  and 
gents,  de  great  beartone  solyist,  Mr.  Fad- 
den,  will  oblige." 

I  did.  I  sings  me  song,  "On  de  Banks 
of  de  Bronx,  where  me  Summer  Goil  hangs 
out,"  and  de  widdy  and  kids  laughed  like 
dey  'd  fed  deir  faces  tree  times  a  day  all 
deir  lives. 

"Fannie,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  when  tings 
was  quiet  again,  "how  long  since  we  sing 
a  duet!"  he  says. 

Miss  Fannie  got  red,  and  says, ' '  Oh,  Paul, 
dat  was  yout'ful  nonsense." 

"It  's  a  time  for  nonsense,"  says  Mr. 
Paul. 

115 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

Wit  dat  he  clears  his  pipes  and  starts  up, 
and  after  a  little  Miss  Fannie  joins  in. 
Gee!  I  never  knowed  dey  could  sing  to- 
gedder  like  dat.  Dey  must  had  lots  of  prac 
tice,  once.  Next  Mrs.  Murphy  passes  us  out 
a  old-country  song,  and  it  was  a  strawberry ! 
Dis  is  one  voise — put  de  spelling  like  it  is 
on  dis  poiper: 

Here  's  a  health  to  Martin  Halligan's  aunt ! 

And  I  '11  tell  you  the  reason  why : 
She  ates  because  she  's  hungry,  and  she  dhrinks 

because  she  's  dhry. 
If  she  e'er  saw  a  man  stop  the  coorse  of  the  can, 

Martin  Halligan's  aunt  would  cry : 
"  Arrah !  fill  up  your  glass,  and  let  the  toast 

pass! 
How  d'  ye  know  but  your  neighbor 's  dhry  T' 

When  we  was  to  home  Mr.  Paul  says  to 
me,  on  de  quiet,  "Chames,  what  will  keep 
our  frens  from  getting  too  hungry  until  de 
widdy  gets  strong?" 

I  tells  him  dat  if  dey  had  five  dollars  a 
week,  dead  sure,  dey  would  be  on  soft  vel 
vet.  He  passes  me  out  a  bill,  and  says, 
116 


A  TENEMENT   THANKSGIVING 

"Dis  will  fix  tings  for  twenty  weeks.  See 
dat  de  widdy  gets  it — five  a  week. " 

Dat  evening  Mr.  Burton  says  to  him, 
''Well,  Paul,  did  you  give  Fannie 's  pam 
pered  paupers  someting  to  be  tankf ul  for  ? ' ' 

"Dey  gives  me  someting  to  be  tankf  ul 
for,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"You  're  lucky,"  says  Mr.  Burton. 
"I  'm  hanged  if  I  see  what  to  give  tanks 
for— wid  stocks  going  as  dey  are  now." 


117 


IX 
A  STUDY  IN  PURPLE 


The  effect  of  Purple  on  wine  and  widows. 


IX 

A   STUDY   IN   PURPLE 

POIPLE  is  a  good  color— I  don't  link! 
Listen :  Widdies  is  all  kinds,  and  some 
is  wonders.  Remember  me  telling  you 
of  Wily  Widdy  what  me  and  Duchess 
played  de  con  game  on— wit  her  ottermo- 
bile?  For  a  week  after  dat  Whiskers  did 
not  speak  her  name,  and  I  taut  she  was 
booked  for  de  woods  for  fair.  Not  a  bit  like 
it.  She  squared  herself  so  dat  Whiskers 
knowed  it  was  n't  her  he  seen  taking  a 
frenly  glass  of  eau  sucree  at  de  Cottage. 

Wait  a  minute:  Are  you  on  to  "eau 
sucree"?  Duchess  passed  dat  out  to  me. 
It  's  French:  French  name;  French  drink. 
Dat  's  right.  It  ain't  a  ting  except  dinky 
sugar  and  water,  but  strong-armed  mugs 
takes  it  as  if  it  was  as  good  as  beer;  and 
gets  gay  on  it,  at  dat. 
121 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

Let  me  tell  you:  Duchess  has  a  goil  fren 
what  was  a  loidy  Vmaid,  but  now  is  mar 
ried  to  a  Frenchman  what  's  de  cook  in 
his  own  little  restaurant.  His  wife,  de  goil 
we  know,  sits  behind  de  counter  making 
change  for  de  waiters,  so  dat  dey  is  sure 
to  get  more  of  it  dan  de  customers  meant 
to  give  'em.  Are  you  on  to  dat  trick !  Cop 
it  de  next  time  you  gets  your  change  in  a 
French  restaurant. 

Once,  when  me  and  Duchess  has  a  day 
off,  we  chases  down  to  de  restaurant  to  say 
bon  chour  to  de  goil.  It  was  between  meals. 
Hubby  was  up  from  de  kitchen,  and  dere 
was  a  couple  of  husky  Frenchmen  dere— 
one  was  a  champeen  wrestler— and  dey  was 
all  drinking  eau  sucree,  and  talking  to  beat 
a  band  of  cart-tail  spellbinders.  We  sits 
in,  and  de  goil  says,  "Kay  vully  voo,  M'sieu 
Chaques?" 

"Oh,  a  little  of  de  same,  tanks,"  I 
says. 

"Esky  soy,  de  'same'!"  says  she.    "We 
have  not  of  de  same. ' ' 
122 


A  STUDY   IN   PURPLE 

"De  Veau  sucree,"  I  says,  "wit  de  low 
ball  on  de  side,"  I  says. 

She  tumbles  den,  laughs,  and  fetches  de 
sugar  and  water  and  a  bottle.  I  sinks  about 
two  fingers  of  rye  in  de  glass,  and  de  French 
mugs  watches  to  see  me  drop  dead  when  I 
drinks  it.  Grog  Americain  dey  calls  it. 
Honest,  dey  gets  more  gay  and  talks  more 
on  deir  dinky  drink  dan  I  do  on  me  toddy. 

As  we  was  waltzing  home  I  says  to  Duch 
ess,  "Dat  was  de  trouble  wit  your  fren  Na 
poleon  at  de  battle  of  Ballyloo,"  I  says. 
"Me  fren  Wellington,"  I  says,  "him  being 
Irish,  takes  a  timbleful  or  so  of  de  real  stuff 
before  he  starts  out  to  do  business  on  de' 
morning  of  Ballyloo— de  wedder  being 
chilly  and  damp.  It  puts  de  proper  fight 
ing  spirit  into  him,  and  he  scores  once  more 
for  Ireland.  He  did  n't  say  a  ting.  He 
just  fit.  But  your  fren  Napoleon,"  I  says, 
"he  calls  for  a  glass  of  eau  sucree.  And 
what  happens!  Instead  of  fighting,  he  just 
talks.  While  Napoleon  was  making  up 
tings  what  would  look  proper  on  tomb- 
123 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

stones,  Mike  Wellington  was  making  tings 
what  would  look  proper  under  tombstones. 
See,  Duchess?"  I  says. 

But  Duchess  got  haughty,  and  only  says, 
"Chames,  I  do  not  know  wedder  you  is 
most  ignorant  or  most  impudent. " 

"You  has  anodder  guess,"  1  says.  She 
gives  me  de  silent  trun-down. 

Listen:  we  ain't  de  only  folks  what  quar 
rel  about  tings  to  drink.  Whiskers  and 
Mr.  Paul  is  always  playing  a  hot  twosome 
to  see  which  can  get  de  finest  wine.  Dey 
is  boss  judges  of  fine  wine,  for  fair;  no 
body  can  flimflam  'em  in  de  game.  When 
one  gets  some  what  's  better  dan  de  odder 's, 
de  odder  is  near  croisy  till  he  pegs  up  one 
better  still.  A  while  ago  Mr.  Paul  landed 
a  lot  wit  a  German  name  dat  run  twice 
around  de  bottles— what  had  poiple  prize 
ribbons  tied  around  deir  necks,  too.  He 
got  all  dere  was.  It  was  n't  much,  but  de 
price  was.  When  I  opened  de  bottle  he 
sent  Whiskers  to  try,  Whiskers  sniffed  and 
sniffed,  and  sipped  and  sipped,  and  it  took 
124 


A  STUDY   IN  PURPLE 

him  an  hour  to  de  glass,  it  tickled  him  so. 
He  near  trun  a  fit,  dough,  when  Mr.  Paul 
would  n't  sell  him  half  of  it.  "No,"  says 
Mr.  Paul.  "I  would  n't  part  wit  a  case  of 
it  for  love  or  money." 

"Love  has  notting  to  do  wit  it,"  Whis 
kers  snorts.  "I  '11  double  your  price  to 
you." 

"Nay,  nay,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  '11  keep 
it  all,  as  an  inducement  for  you  to  dine 
often  at  me  table,  sir,"  he  says. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  how  Wily 
Widdy  squared  herself  wit  Whiskers.  We 
was  all  out  riding,  up  to  our  place  on  de 
Sound  one  day,  when  we  meets  her.  Hark : 
Whenever  Miss  Fannie  rides,  I  rides  too. 
Whiskers  says  to  me  long  ago,  "Chames, 
when  Miss  Fannie  goes  riding  you  ride  be 
hind  her,  no  matter  who  else  is  along.  And, 
Chames,"  he  says,  "if  ever  you  take  your 
eyes  off  her  horse  I  '11  take  you  out  to  de 
stable  and  show  you  anodder  use  for  a  hitch- 
ing-strap  besides  hitching." 

Say,  I  'in  getting  to  be  such  a  good  rider 
125 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

I  'm  linking  of  entering  meself  in  de  Horse 
Show  next  year.  I  says  dat  to  Mr.  Paul, 
and  asks  him  what  class  I  'd  enter  meself 
in.  He  taut  awhile,  and  says,  "Well, 
Chames,  you  soitainly  would  take  all  de 
prizes  in  de  'D'  class. " 

Well,  we  was  riding  along  de  road  and 
suddently  meets  Wily  Widdy,  wit  her  Eng 
lish  groom  what  promised  me  a  fight  on 
his  day  off,  but  he  's  shy  on  holidays  since 
den.  We  stops,  and  WTiddy  hands  out  a 
polite  "howdy"  to  all  hands;  Whiskers  get 
ting  red,  dough  he  had  on  his  cold-storage 
front. 

"I  'in  sprised,"  he  says  to  her,  "not  to 
see  you  in  your  ottermobile, ' '  he  says. 

"I  Ve  not  used  it  since  I  was  over  to 
lunch  wit  Fannie,"  she  says. 

"I  spose  you  got  it  out  of  order  racing 
back  from  de  Cottage  de  same  day,"  he 
says. 

"I  never  was  to  de  Cottage,"  she  says. 
i  '  I  went  nowhere  but  to  Fannie 's. ' ' 

Whiskers  looks  queer  a  minute,  den  he 
126 


A   STUDY   IN   PURPLE 

says,  "Is  dere  any  odder  ottermobile  but 
yours,  wit  a  poiple-painted  body,  in  dis  neck 
of  woods  1" 

"No,"  says  Widdy.  "I  'm  in  half- 
mourning,  you  know, ' '  she  says,  wit  a  smile, 
"but  poiple  disagrees  wit  me  complexion, 
so  I  has  me  traps  painted  poiple  instead 
of  me  frocks.  If  me  mobe  was  to  de  Cot 
tage  dat  day, ' '  she  says,  ' '  one  of  your  soi- 
vants  must  took  it  dere,"  and  she  passes 
me  out  a  half  "I  'm-on-to-you "  look. 

Whiskers  pipes  me  off,  too;  but  I  was 
making  faces  at  de  groom,  and  let  on  I 
did  n't  see  him. 

Whiskers  acts  like  a  pebble  had  been  took 
from  his  shoe;  Widdy  gives  'em  all  a  in 
vite  to  her  house  to  lunch,  and  we  rides 
over  dere ;  Whiskers  and  Widdy  talking  fast 
to  make  up  for  lost  time. 

When  I  'd  stabled  de  horses,  bossed  de 
groom,  and  asked  him  for  a  fight  he  was 
too  busy  to  give  me,  Miss  Fannie  sent  for 
me.  She  says  dat  Widdy 's  butler  was 
away,  and  told  me  to  take  his  place.  I  goes 
127 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

to  de  pantry  and  wine-cellar,  makes  me  lay 
out  for  lunch,  and,  when  de  cook  tells  me, 
I  says  to  de  folks,  "Lunch  is  soived." 

"I  has  n't  a  ting  for  you  to  eat,"  says 
Widdy, i  i  except  pompano,  boned  squab,  and 
a  salad." 

' '  We  '11  try  to  stay  our  hunger  wit  dat, ' ' 
says  Whiskers,  getting  real  kittenish. 

Tings  moved  along  as  lovely  as  a  winning 
horse  when  you  Ve  a  bet  on,  till  Whiskers 
raised  de  glass  of  wine  I  'd  soived  him. 
He  sniffed  and  sniffed  it,  and  toined  his 
head  on  one  side  like  he  seen  a  man  he 
knowed  but  could  n't  remember  his  name. 
Den  he  sipped  and  sipped  it,  and  all  of  a 
suddent  he  trun  a  nickel-steel  look  at  Mr. 
Paul.  But  Mr.  Paul  was  talking  to  Miss 
Fannie,  and  his  mug  was  more  innocenter 
dan  a  caddie  wit  his  foot  on  de  lost  golf 
ball  you  is  looking  for. 

Whiskers  got  good  and  red,  and  when  I 
filled  his  glass  again  he  takes  a  peep  at  de 
bottle,  what  had  a  poiple  ribbon  around 
its  neck. 

128 


A   STUDY   IN   PURPLE 

When  lie  'd  done  choking  he  says  to 
Widdy,  "I  see,  ma'am,  dat  you  puts  your 
wine  in  half-mourning,  too." 

She  gives  a  quick  look  at  de  bottle,  glares 
at  me,  and  bites  her  lip  like  it  was  a  tough 
proposition ;  but  before  she  says  anyting 
Mr.  Paul  begins  talking  so  fast  no  one  else 
could  trim  in  a  remark  till  Widdy  got  her 
second  wind,  and  came  up  smiling  wit  a 
game  of  talk  about  de  opray. 

My,  my!  but  Whiskers  was  frosty  after 
dat. 

When  we  was  home  Mr.  Paul  folleyed 
me  to  de  stable  and  says,  "Cliames,  you 
child  of  Satan,"  he  says,  "why  did  you 
solve  dat  wine  ?  It  was  not  de  kind  you  was 
ordered  to  soive,"  he  says. 

"I  taut  it  would  tickle  Whiskers  to  have 
a  glass  or  two  of  it  under  his  belt  again," 
I  says. 

Mr.  Paul  taut  awhile,  like  he  was  won 
dering  if  it  would  n't  ease  his  feelings  to 
take  de  end  of  a  hitching-strap  to  me,  but 
he  only  groans  a  little,  and  says,  "You  is 
9  129 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

entitled,"  he  says,  "to  your  own  opinion 
of  what  gives  pleasure  to  Mr.  Van  Court- 
landt, "  he  says;  "but  what  wit  poiple 
mobes,  and  poiple-ribbon  wine,  he  is  get 
ting  radder  more  of  de  royal  color  in  his 
landscape  dan  is  good  for  him." 

What  do  you  tink  of  a  real  gent  passing 
out  langwudge  like  dose? 

When  I  spins  de  whole  yarn  to  Duchess 
she  yells  murder  wit  laughing.  "Mon 
Dieu,  mon  enfant!"  she  says;  "for  a  Bow 
ery  boy  you  is  de  woise  case  of  farmer  I 
ever  see,"  she  says. 

"On  your  way,  hussy!"  I  says. 

But  I  don't  know  yet  what  de  joke  is. 


130 


X 

THE   HORSE   SHOW 


THE   HORSE    SHOW 

TO  de  Horse  Show  was  we  ?  1  wonder ! 
You  could  n't  lose  us.  Say,  Duchess 
don't  know  a  New  Jersey  steer  from  a  Ken 
tucky  torrowbred,  but  you  could  n't  keep 
her  from  de  Horse  Show  wit  bayonets. 

"Let  us  go,"  she  says  to  me,  "and  sec 
is  New  York  getting  more  civilized." 

"On  your  way!"  I  says.  "It  is  de  most 
civilized  village  dis  side  de  Harlem,"  I  says. 
"In  de  driving  class  for  trotters,  in  de 
hackney  class,  in  four-in-hands,  tandems,  in 
all  de  signs  of  civilization  and  refinement," 
I  says,  pinching  some  of  Mr.  Paul's  woids, 
"New  York  is  a  strawberry  for  fair,"  I 
says. 

"Truly,"  says  Duchess,  "de  entry-list  is 
lovely,"  she  says.  "I  was  hearing  Miss 
133 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

Fannie  tell,"  she  says,  "of  one  entry  of 
amytist-colored  clot'  and  lustrous  panne 
velvet,  wit  Persian  'broideries." 

"Dat  must  be  a  monkey,"  I  says.  "It  's 
no  horse." 

"Anodder  entry,"  says  Duchess,  not  lis 
tening  to  me  woids  of  wisdom,  "  is  a  blouse 
bodice,  slightly  gaddered  on  de  shoulders 
and  at  de  belt,  bote  front  and  back.  Let  us 
hasten,"  she  says,  "to  de  Horse  Show." 

"Sure,"  I  says.  "Let  us  get  a  move  on. 
De  hunter  class  is  shooting  round  de  ring, 
and  de  high-jumper  class  is  near  out  of 
sight." 

"It  opens  in  a  V-shape,  wit  all  its  edges 
bound  wit  Persian  lamb,"  says  Duchess. 

"On  your  way!"  I  says.  "To  de  woods 
wit  you!  Do  you  link  it  is  a  country  fair? 
Dere  is  no  lambs  at  de  Horse  Show,"  I  says, 
"barring  de  bunch  dat  opens  wine  in  de 
wine-room." 

Well,  Little  Miss  Fannie  fell  off  her  bike 
and  bumped  her  conk  one  day,  so  of  course 
Miss   Fannie,   Mr.   Burton,   and  Whiskers 
134 


THE   HORSE   SHOW 

wanted  no  Horse  Show  dat  night,  and 
Duchess  got  de  tickets  for  de  box.  I  wored 
one  of  Mr.  Burton's  dress  suits,  and  it  fitted 
me  so  dudey  I  had  a  yard  of  pants  to  roll 
up  at  de  bottom.  But  Duchess  was  in  it  for 
style  up  to  de  limit.  She  had  a  dress  Miss 
Fannie  give  her,  and,  honest,  a  strawberry 
was  a  turnip  alongside  her ! 

When  we  floats  to  de  box  Duchess  hists  a 
lornyet  to  her  peeper,  and  takes  a  peep  at 
folks  around  us  wit  such  side  on  her  I  felt 
like  giving  away  brownstone  fronts  on  de 
Avenoo.  I  was  watching  Mr.  Paul  in  de 
ring,  driving  his  four-in-hand  like  he  does 
everyting  else— as  if  it  was  so  easy  it  made 
him  tired— and  when  he  swung  around  by 
us  he  takes  a  peep  at  our  box,  looking  for 
Whiskers,  I  spose.  He  seen  me,  tips  me  a 
solemn  wink,  and  when  he  wins  de  foist 
prize  he  strolls  over  to  us,  wit  his  hands  in 
his  pockets.  He  leans  over  de  box,  and  says, 
' '  Hortense ' '  -what  is  Duchess '  name- 
"you  is  looking  like  a  bunch  of  fleur-de-lis 
dis  evening. " 

135 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Mem,  M'sieu,"  says  Duchess,  passing 
him  out  a  bow  dat  paralyzed  de  mugs  rub 
bering  to  see  who  Mr.  Paul  was  talking  to. 
"Tell  me,  M'sieu  Paul,"  she  says,  "why 
all  de  big  space  in  de  center  is  toined  into 
a  stable?  If  de  loidies  was  let  to  prome 
nade  dere,  dey  could  show  deir  gowns  twice 
as  well.  Is  dere  not  stalls  enough  in  New 
York  for  de  horses,"  she  says,  "witout 
wasting  good  space  on  'em  here '? ' ' 

"Madam  Fadden,"  says  Mr.  Paul— I  al 
ways  dies  when  I  hears  Duchess  called  Mrs. 
Fadden— "you  has  wisdom  as  well  as  wit. 
Having  a  pull  here,"  he  says,  "I  shall  ar 
range  next  year  to  put  de  horses  in  de  boxes 
and  de  loidies  in  de  ring." 

He  gives  me  a  wink  to  folley  him,  and 
says,  "Chames,  would  you  like  a  glass  of 
wine  at  de  Waldorf!" 

"I  'd  radder  have  a  glass  of  beer  on  de 
Bowery.  I  'm  not  proud.  What  's  doing?" 

"Dere  is  a  young  gent  here,"  he  says, 
"who  has  notting  but  boodle  to  boin,  and 
is  looking  for  a  fire." 
136 


THE   HORSE   SHOW 

'  *  I  has  a  match, ' '  I  says. 

4 'So  I  recalled,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Me 
young  fren  comes  from  Philadelphia,"  he 
says,  "but  I  wishes  him  no  harm  on  dat 
account.  His  brodder  wired  me  to  see  dat 
de  youngster  had  a  good  time,  but  not  too 
good." 

"What  's  doing?"  I  says  again. 

"I  shall  present  him  to  you  and  Hor- 
tense,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "and  I  suspect  he  '11 
not  quite  catch  your  names.  But  if  he  heard 
you  call  Hortense  'Duchess,'  de  plot  would 
ticken  so  you  could  n't  stir  it  wit  a  golf 
club." 

Well,  pretty  soon  Mr.  Paul  chases  up  to 
de  box  wit  a  nice  Willie  in  tow.  "Madam 
de  Tarumsky,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "I  begs  to 
resent  me  fren  Mr.  Kittenhouse,"  he  says, 
and  Duchess  passes  out  a  coy  glance  to 
Kitty.  "Mr.  Fahdaning,"  says  Mr.  Paul 
to  me,  "shake  hands  wit  me  fren,"  he  says. 

I    says   notting   for   a   while,    for   Kitty 
struck  such  a  gait  I  was  out  of  de  running. 
But  when  he    'd  asked  Duchess  about  de 
137 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

loidies  in  all  de  boxes — say,  you  should 
heard  de  pedigree  she  give  some  of  'em! 
Police! — I  saw  me  opening,  and  jumps  in 
wit,  "Duchess,"  I  says,  and  at  de  woid  lit 
tle  Kitty  near  fell  out  de  box,  "me  dear 
Duchess,"  I  says,  "je  suis  fatigue,11  I 
says,  "and  I  has  a  toist  on  me  like  a  dry 
pump. ' ' 

"Let  us  go  home,"  says  Duchess,  tum 
bling  quick,  for  she  's  furder  from  being 
a  farmer  dan  de  Bronx  is  from  de  Battery, 
"let  us  go  home  and  have  a  boid  and  a 
bottle,"  she  says. 

"Is  it  not  part  of  de  Horse  Show,  your 
Grace,"  says  Bitty,  "to  have  de  boid  at 
de  Waldorf?" 

'  *  To  be  sure, ' '  she  says.  1 1  When  one  has 
seen  de  animals  perform,  one  goes  to  see 
'em  feed." 

"Good!"  says  Bitty.  "Your  Grace  has 
quite  de  wit.  May  I  have  de  pleasure  of 
showing  your  Grace  and  Mr.  Fahdaning  de 
animals  at  feed?" 

"You  're  on,"  I  says. 
138 


THE  HORSE   SHOW 

"Vous  etes  tres-aimablel"  says  Duchess, 
fetching  him  a  smile  dat  stunned  him. 

Well,  we  Wkes  out  of  de  Garden,  flags  a 
carriage,  and  rolls  to  Mr.  Waldorf's  inn, 
where  a  million  odder  dry-and-hungries  was 
headed.  All  tables  what  was  n't  filled  had 
chairs  toined  up ;  but  Duchess  gives  de  boss 
waiter  a  line  of  forn  talk,  and  he  hustled 
a  table  for  us  like  we  was  rolling  cigarettes 
in  coupons. 

"What  would  your  Grace  fancy  to  eat!" 
asks  Bitty. 

"Netting  at  all,"  says  Duchess,  giving 
me  heart  failure.  "Not  a  ting,  me  dear 
M'sieu  Wittenwouse,  unless  it  wras  a  mere 
glass  of  wine,  a  bit  of  terrapin,  a  broiled 
lobster"— she  passes  me  out  a  ghost  of  a 
wink  at  dat— "a  broiled  live  lobster,  a  reed- 
boid  or  two,  and  a  biscuit  Tortoni.  Notting 
else— really  netting!" 

Listen:  Ritty  has  de  making  of  a  dead- 
game  sport,  for  fair.  He  asks  for  de  pri 
vate  wine  list,  and  orders  a  quart  dat  costs 
an  X  per  bot.  He  has  de  boned  terrapin 
139 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

sent  in  cold,  and  cooks  it  himself  on  a  chaf 
ing-dish;  and  all  de  time  was  telling  us 
what  a  warm  proposition  Philadelphia  is. 

Well,  I  kept  de  bottle  from  getting  stuck 
in  de  cooler,  and,  by  de  time  we  was  feed 
ing,  de  plug  was  out  of  anodder  X  raise 
bottle,  and  we  was  de  cheerfulest  woikers 
in  de  dining-room.  Kitty  was  ' '  your  Grac ' ' 
ing  Duchess  till  folks  at  odder  tables  was 
rubbering  us  to  beat  a  windmill. 

When  Ritty  put  up  de  price— and  de  size 
of  de  meal  ticket  never  jarred  him— Duch 
ess  tips  me  de  wink  to  fly  de  coop,  and  we 
bucks  de  center  till  we  made  a  touch-down 
in  Toity-fort  Street.  Just  den  Perkins,  our 
butler,  who  was  having  his  night  off,  comes 
along,  and  when  he  sees  me  and  Duchess 
wit  de  swell  Willie,  he  gives  us  de  ha-ha. 
"Chames,"  lie  says,  "you  'd  better  go 
home;  your  master  wants  you." 

"Fellow!"  I  says.  "On  your  way,  fel 
low!"  I  says. 

' '  Who  is  he  ? "  says  Ritty.    ' '  Shall  I  trash 

him!" 

140 


THE  HORSE  SHOW 

"He  is  a  drunken  butler  I  had  to  dis 
charge  last  week,"  I  says. 

It  was  a  long-shot  bluff,  but  it  went,  for 
Perky  was  so  mad  he  could  n't  speak. 

We  waltzes  up  de  Avenoo,  and  stops  at 
de  swellest  house  in  it,  where  a  goil  Duch 
ess  knows  is  a  maid.  "Sorry,"  says  Duch 
ess  to  Kitty,  "dat  I  can't  ask  you  in  to 
smoke  a  cigarette,  but  de  house  is  all  tored 
up  by  decorators— I  can't  even  get  in  by 
de  front  entrance." 

Den  she  rings  de  bell  at  de  soivants'  door. 
Has  she  a  noive?  What!  Kitty  says  bon 
soir,  says  he  has  de  time  of  his  life,  chases 
—and  we  calls  on  de  help! 

A  few  days  after  dat  de  loidy  what  lives 
in  dat  house  says  to  Miss  Fannie,  "Don't 
your  husband's  valet  call  your  maid  'Duch 
ess'!" 

"Yes,"  says  Miss  Fannie.  "What  mis 
chief  has  dey  been  doing  now?" 

"Notting  very  bad,"  says  de  loidy,  wit 
a  laugh,  "but  if  your  maid  is  fond  of  flow 
ers  and  candy,  send  her  to  my  house.  About 
141 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

a  ton  of  'em  comes  every  day  from  Phila 
delphia,  addressed  to  de  'Duchess  de  Ta- 
rumsky.'  I  refused  to  take  'em  in,  but  my 
maid  receives  'em,  and  says  she  knows  who 
dey  is  for." 

Miss  Fannie  told  Duchess,  she  told  me, 
and  I  told  Mr.  Paul.  He  looked  tautful 
awhile,  and  den  says,  "I  will  call  on  de 
loidy,  and  square  you  and  Hortense, 
Chames.  But  de  next  time  I  puts  your  foot 
on  de  Philadelphia  end  of  de  social  ladder, 
don't  try  to  stretch  it  to  New  York;  nor," 
he  says,  "put  your  foot  tru  it." 


142 


XI 

AN  IRONING-BOARD 
IN   POLITICS 


XI 

AN   IRONING-BOARD   IN   POLITICS 

ARE WELL!    I  'm  going  to  reform," 
says  Mr.  Paul  to  Whiskers. 

Dey  was  having  deir  regular  chin-chin,  wit 
Miss  Fannie  sitting  near  by  woiking  some 
fancy- woik  what  is  never  done.  Dat  was 
all  dere  was  in  de  library,  except  me,  fussing 
about  as  per  usual  to  see  dat  de  wood  fire 
was  fired,  and  dat  nobody  died  of  toist  or 
hunger.  Mr.  Burton  was  to  de  club,  also  as 
per  usual. 

'  *  Nobody  could  go  f urder  dan  you,  Paul, ' ' 
says  Whiskers,  "if  you  really  is  going  so 
far  as  reform." 

"I  likes  a  long  joiney,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"Do  not  let  dis  shock  overcome  you,  sir," 
he  says,  i  l  but  I  am  going  to  vote  de  Repub 
lican  ticket  someting  less  dan  tree  years 
from  now." 

10  145 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"Chames!"  yells  Whiskers,  "bring  a 
quart  of  Special  Vintage.  Fannie,"  he 
says,  "you  must  join  us  in  a  glass!  Dis  is 
de  joyfulest  hour  of  me  life;  for,"  he  says, 
"dere  is  more  joy  over  one  Democrat  dat 
reforms  dan  over  nine  mugwumps  dat  keeps 
on  writing  letters  to  de  poipers." 

"I  am  deeply  touched,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
taking  de  glass  I  hands  him,  "by  dis  initia 
tion  into  de  ranks  of  de  truly  good.  Yes, ' ' 
he  says,  "in  nineteen  hundred  and  four  I 
shall  vote  for  Mark  Hanna  for  President." 

At  dat  Whiskers  makes  a  holler.  "Bali !" 
he  says.  "Senator  Hanna  has  became  a 
Democrat.  He  has  associated  himself  wit 
vagabones  who  organize  strikes.  He  's  no 
longer  a  Republican.  He  's  no  better  dan 
a  Democrat!" 

"If  dat  is  so,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "we  '11 
drink  dis  bottle  to  celebrate  de  reform  of 
Mr.  Hanna.  Reform  is  de  ting,  after  all," 
he  says,  '  *  and  it  don 't  frost  no  cake  wedder 
it  is  Mark  or  me  dat  gets  it." 

Whiskers  looked  like  he  did  n't  just  know 
146 


AN   IRONING-BOARD   IN   POLITICS 

de  answer,  but  Miss  Fannie  says,  "I  taut 
Mr.  Roosevelt  was  to  be  de  next  President. ' ' 
"Of  course,"  says  Whiskers.  "Dat  's 
it  exactly.  Paul  don't  know  as  much  poli 
tics  as  you  do,  me  dear. ' ' 

' '  I  am  shy  on  de  fine  points  of  de  game, ' ' 
says  Mr.  Paul,  "but  I  did  link  dat  de  man 
what  got  de  delegates  got  de  nomination— 
for  self,  or  fren." 

"Well,"  says  Whiskers,  "everybody 
wants  Mr.  Roosevelt  to  get  de  nomination, 
so  he  '11  get  it." 

"I  see,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Just  de  same 
as  Daniel  Webster,  Roscoe  Conkling,  Jus 
tice  Field,  and  Tom  Reed  got  it." 

"Not  at  all,"  says  Whiskers.  "Mr. 
Roosevelt  will  get  de  delegates  dis  time  dat 
Mr.  McKinley  got  last  time." 

"From  Mr.  Hanna?"  asks  Mr.  Paul,  easy 
like. 

"From  de  people,"  says  Whiskers. 
"For  instance,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "you  is 
one  of  de  people,  so  am  I.     W^ill  we  give 
him  a  delegate?" 

147 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

' ' Soitainly ! ' '  says  Whiskers.  "I  '11  look 
into  dis  matter  to-morrow.  I  '11  find  out 
how  delegates  is  made — and  make  one." 

"Dey  is  no  longer  hand-made,"  says  Mr. 
Paul,  "or  I  should  make  a  few  meself. 
Handicraft  is  a  lost  art  in  politics  and  shoe- 
making.  Machinery  has  put  de  artisan  out 
of  business.  Delegates  is  made,"  he  says, 
"by  machinery,  and  Mr.  Hanna  has  de  lat 
est  invention  in  dat  line,  well  oiled,  and 
doing  stunts  at  de  old  stand.  Mr.  Roose 
velt  will  make  a  good  administration,  but 
he  won't  make  delegates.  De  two  trades  is 
no  more  alike  dan  painting  a  picture  and 
printing  a  chromo. ' ' 

' '  You  make  phrases,  but  not  sense,  Paul, ' ' 
says  Whiskers.  '  *  If  Mr.  Hanna  had  kept  in 
de  party,  instead  of  becoming  a  scoffer  at 
established  institutions  by  consorting  openly 
wit  de  most  dangerous  elements  of  society, 
de  Republican  party  might  rewarded  him 
some  day  by  making  him  President." 

"Mr.  Hanna  is  a  good-natured  gent," 
says  Mr.  Paul,  "and  if  de  Republican  party 
148 


AN  IRONING-BOARD   IN   POLITICS 

don 't  reward  him  by  making  him  President, 
he  '11  reward  de  Republican  party  by  mak 
ing  himself  President.  He  knows  a  good 
ting  when  he  owns  it. ' ' 

4 'Paul,"  says  Whiskers,  "dis  is  revolu 
tionary  and  siditious!  If  your  reform 
brings  you  to  dis  state  of  mind  you  'd  bet 
ter  backslide,  radder  dan  pollute  de  pure 
waters  of  Republism  by  de  poisoned  shafts 
of  treason  and  Democracy.  You  is  woise, " 
he  says,  "dan  Lucifer  leading  his  legion 
against  de  batterments  of  heaven." 

Say,  I  don't  know  Lucifer,  but  he  must 
be  a  comic  mug,  for  when  Whiskers  names 
him  Miss  Fannie  and  Mr.  Paul  laughs  like 
dey  had  a  fit.  Whiskers  laughed  too,  but 
he  laughs  like  he  was  trying  to  side-step  an 
upper-cut.  Den  he  says,  "I  was  too  severe 
wit  you,  Paul.  We  Republicans,"  he  says, 
'  *  should  remember  dat  you  Democrats  can 't 
help  being  wicked.  We  should  pray  for 
you,  radder  dan  point  de  finger  of  scorn." 

"I  am  sorry  I  introduced  de  subject," 
says  Mr.  Paul. 

149 


CHIMMIB   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

Den  dey  talks  about  de  opray,  and  dinky 
tings  what  is  woise  dan  knock-out  drops  to 
listen  to,  so  I  asks  Miss  Fannie  could- 1  have 
de  rest  of  de  evening  off. 

"I  has  to  go  down  home  and  enroll,"  I 
says. 

"Enroll  what?"  asks  Whiskers. 

'  i  Enroll  in  me  precinct  club, ' '  I  says. 

"But  de  election  is  just  over,"  he  says. 

"Anodder  one  has  just  begun,"  I  says. 
"Anyway,"  I  says,  "if  you  '11  excuse  me 
putting  in  a  woid,  elections  ain't  politics  no 
more  dan  a  cash-register  is  a  restaurant. 
De  election,"  I  says,  "is  like  a  kid  count 
ing  his  money  after  selling  poipers  all  day. 
He  did  n't  sell  poipers  all  day  to  see  how 
well  he  could  count  money  at  de  end ;  he  's 
counting  money  to  see  how  well  he  sold  poi 
pers  all  day." 

"Dis  is  mysticism,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"At  de  late  election,"  says  Whiskers, 
* '  one  party  was  so  punished  it  has  no  heart 
to  train  for  anodder  election." 

Mr.  Paul  passes  me  out  a  wink  on  de  side, 
150 


AN   IRONING-BOARD   IN  POLITICS 

so  I  says:  "Which  felly  in  a  prize-fight 
takes  and  gets  de  most  care  between  rounds  ? 
It  's  de  mug  what  was  to  de  bad  in  de  last 
round.  Dat  's  right,"  I  says.  "He  gets 
de  rubbing,  sponging,  icing,  fanning,  de 
tonica  and  de  wise  woid, ' '  I  says.  ' '  But  de 
mug  what  was  to  de  good  in  de  last  round 
is  so  busy  telling  how  he  done  it,  and  shak 
ing  hands  wit  himself  and  frens,  he  forgets 
de  next  round  till  de  bell  rings.  Den  he 
gets  a  punch  in  de  solo  plexer  what  makes 
him  wish  he  had  de  wind  he  just  wasted 
telling  what  a  wonder  he  is.  A  good  punch 
is  sometimes  landed  by  accident,  but  not 
often,"  I  says.  "De  knock-out  punches  in 
de  last  election  was  not  give  by  no  ama- 
toor, "  I  says.  "Dey  was  give  by  a  handy 
scrapper  and  de  son  of  a  scrapper.  May  I 
go  now,  Miss  Fannie?"  I  says. 

"Tell  me  foist,"  she  says,  "why  you  en 
roll  in  your  precinct  club,"  she  says. 

"Because,"  I  says,  "me  modder  gets 
good  wages  doing  fancy  ironing  at  home 
for  de  Dago  what  runs  de  French  laundry 
151 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

for  de  Austrians  in  Little  Germany  on  Sec 
ond  Avenoo,"  I  says. 

"Chimmie's  modder  is  a  foist-class  laun 
dress  on  fine  woik,"  says  Miss  Fannie.  "I 
has  tried  to  have  her  take  soivice  wit  me, 
but  she  said  she  'd  radder  keep  her  little 
home  for  Chames  to  visit  on  his  days  off." 

"Dat  's  right,"  I  says,  "and  to  help  her 
keep  her  home  I  'tends  to  me  politics,"  I 
says. 

"Will  you  kindly  tell  me  what  in  de  woild 
all  dis  has  to  do  wit  politics?"  says  Whis 
kers,  blinking  like  dere  was  a  fly  on  his 
glasses. 

"Chames  can  tell,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

' '  Sure, ' '  I  says.  i  i  Easy !  De  Dago  what 
runs  de  laundry  says  he  would  n't  pay  me 
modder  de  good  wages  she  'd  been  getting. 
She  tells  me.  Well,  I  'd  always  'tended  to 
me  politics  proper,  and  does  a  song  and 
dance  when  asked  to  oblige  at  de  club  smok 
ers,  so  of  course  I  goes  to  me  precinct  cap 
tain  and  tells  him.  He  goes  to  de  district 
leader's  lieutenant  and  tells  him,  and  he 
152 


AN  IRONING-BOARD   IN  POLITICS 

tells  de  district  leader.  De  leader  sends  a 
tip  to  de  Bureau  of  Incumbrances.  De  chief 
of  de  bureau  tips  a  cop,  who  pinches  de 
laundryman  for  obstructing  de  street  at 
night  wit  his  delivery  wagon. 

"De  laundryman  puts  up  a  holler,  goes 
to  de  leader,  and  says  he  has  paid  for  de 
privilege  of  obstructing  de  street.  De  leader 
says  dat  don't  give  him  no  right  to  take 
wages  away  from  de  modder  of  a  good  pre 
cinct  woiker.  'Leave  old  lady  Padden  have 
her  woik  at  de  old  price,'  says  de  leader, 
'or  you  pays  ten  dollars'  fine  for  street  ob 
structing,  and  has  to  hire  a  stable  to  put 
your  wagon  in, '  he  says. 

"De  laundryman,"  I  says  to  Whiskers, 
"done  what  he  was  told,  and  me  modder 
keeps  her  woik  and  wages.  I  'd  be  a  welcher 
if  I  did  n't  'tend  to  me  politics  after  dat. 
Would  n't  I?"  I  says. 

"When  dere  is  a  President  to  be  elected 

to  Washington,  Somebody  tells  de  Boss  who 

is  to  be  sent  to  de  convention.    De  Boss  tells 

de  leader,  who  tells  his  lieutenant,  who  tells 

153 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

me  precinct  captain,  who  tells  me,  so  I 
knows  who  to  vote  for  at  de  primaries. 
Easy !  Can  I  go  now,  Miss  Fannie  ? "  I  says. 

"Unless  papa  wants  to  ask  you  some 
more  about  politics, ' '  she  says,  wit  a  smile. 

"Tank  you,"  says  Whiskers,  getting 
frosty.  "I  has  already  heard  more  non 
sense  about  politics  dan  I  care  for. ' ' 

"I  have  n't,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "How 
many  are  dere  in  New  York,"  he  says  to 
me,  ' '  who  are  enrolled,  as  you  are,  for  some 
favor  received — or  expected  f" 

"I  don't  know  in  all  New  York,"  I  says, 
"but  on  de  little  old  island  of  Manhattan 
dere  is  about  one  hundred  tousand  of  us  on 
our  side.  I  ain't  dead  next  on  de  game 
now,"  I  says,  "for  I  Ve  been  out  of  it- 
except  'tending  to  me  duty— since  I  come 
here.  A  mug,"  I  says,  "has  to  keep  next 
all  de  time  to  cop  it  right.  I  was  in  it  for 
fair  only  five  years,  for  I  did  n't  vote  till 
I  was  sixteen,  and  Miss  Fannie  hired  me 
when  I  was  twenty-one.  To  know  de  game 
wise  takes  twenty  years'  hard  woik,  doing 
154 


AN  IRONING-BOARD  IN  POLITICS 

netting  else.  Can  I  go  now,  Miss  Fannie!" 
I  says. 

"  Unless  Paul  wants  to  ask  you  someting 
about  politics,"  says  she,  looking  hard  at 
her  fancy-woik. 

Mr.  Paul  taut  awhile,  den  says,  "No. 
I  did  intend  going  out  wit  Mr.  Van  Court- 
landt  to-morrow  afternoon,  and  settle  dis 
matter  according  to  right  and  reason,"  he 
says.  "But  on  second  taut,"  says  he,  "it 
would  be  cruel  for  us  to  destroy  in  a  day 
de  machine  which  saves  so  many  excellent 
citizens  de  trouble  of  deciding  for  deirselves 
who  to  send  to  de  conventions  dat  nominates 
a  Pres-" 

"Paul,  drink  up!"  says  Whiskers. 
"Chames,"  he  says,  "get  out!" 

Say,  I  wonder  what  was  troubling  de  old 
gentleman  ? 


165 


XII 
WOMAN'S  CUNNING 


XII 
WOMAN'S   CUNNING 

DAT  Maccaroni  is  to  de  good.  He  's 
wise.  His  game  is  n't  a  flimflam,  for 
dere  's  no  use  of  wires  in  teJegrafting. 
Maccaroni  is  to  de  good  for  fair;  but  he 
is  n't  de  only  trolley  on  de  track.  Let  me 
tell  you:  Duchess  is  a  wireless  telegrafter. 
How  do  I  know?  To  me  loss.  Dat  's  right : 
to  me  grief !  And  I  can  tell  a  grafter  when 
I  see  one.  What! 

Ever  since  Duchess  has  been  me"  wife  T 
has  tried  to  sink  a  bean,  a  green  wafer,  in 
me  own  jeans  witout  her  getting  next.  Nay, 
nay!  If  I  win  a  tip  from  Whiskers,  Mr. 
Paul,  de  Wily  Widdy,  or  Mr.  Burton -no, 
cut  dat:  Mr.  Burton  never  parts  from  his 
simoleons  in  tips— or  from  anybody,  Duch 
ess  is  on.  She  's  wise,  I  tell  you;  she  's 
159 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND  MR.  PAUL 

next,  she  cops  me  graft,  and  it  must  be  by 
wireless  telegraf t.  I  wish  dere  was  a  ' '  cen 
tral  ' '  I  could  ring  up,  and  have  her  wireless 
wire  connected  wit  somebody  besides  yours 
truly.  Dat  's  me  only  chance  to  hold  out  a 
dollar  or  so,  to  start  a  sinking-fun  of  me 
own. 

But  I  don't  want  to  pass  out  no  hard- 
luck  chant.  I  Ve  piped  whole  bunches  of 
mugs  in  me  time ;  wise  guys  and  gillies ;  fly 
ducks  and  gazeaboos;  but  I  never  yet  seen 
one  make  to  de  good  by  putting  up  a  hard- 
luck  holler.  It  's  as  easy  to  make  a  front 
of  being  to  de  good,  as  to  run  a  bluff  of 
being  to  de  bad,  and  it  's  a  better  winning 
graft.  As  me  old  friend  Mrs.  Murphy  says 
—and  a  door-knob  is  a  soft-boiled  egg 
alongside  de  luck  she  's  played  in— she 
says: 

Rich,  and  de  woild  is  wit  you ! 
Poor,  and  you  're  poor  alone ! 

I  'm  wiser  dan  to  sing  a  song  of  hard 
luck,  wit  me  pocket  full  of  pie;  but  I  'd  be 
160 


WOMAN'S   CUNNING 

tickled  to  deat  if  Duchess  would  catch  loss 
of  memory  de  next  time  I  tries  to  hold  out 
de  price  of  a  night  off.  I  'm  not  kicking, 
but  me  leg  twitters  when  I  tink  of  de  size 
of  de  roll  Duchess  has  in  de  saving-banks, 
and  dat  it  's  all  being  saved  for— No.  I 
can't  tell  you  dat.  Not  yet.  I  'in  not  wink 
ing.  Duchess  is  French,  you  know,  and 
French  folk  is  wonders  for  giving  a  solid 
send-off  in  de  woild  to— Dere  I  go  again! 
I  must  n't  peep.  But,  chee !  I  wish  I  could. 
What  was  I  telling  you  of?  I  'm  a  bit 
gay  in  me  coco  dese  days,  and  I  forgets  me 
line  of  talk. 

I  was  over  to  Mr.  Paul's,  giving  him  his 
boxing-lesson,  and  I  chances  to  say  dat  dere 
was  no  use  screaming  a  hard-luck  yarn, 
even  if  de  yarn  was  on  you;  but  he  looks 
tautful  awhile,  and  says,  "He  laughs  at 
cars  who  never  felt  a  bump,"  he  says. 
"You,  Chames,  is  de  luckiest  young  pois- 
son  in  de  borough  of  Manhattan  and  de 
Bronx.  You  has  a  good  home,  in  a  good 
place,  wit  good  frens." 


161 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

"De  best  ever,"  I  says. 

"And,"  he  says,  "Hortense  is  a  good 
wife. ' ' 

' '  She  is, "  I  says,  ' '  and  a  good  toucher. ' ' 

"If  I  had  your  luck,  Chames,"  he  says, 
"I  'd  be  satisfied  just  to  be  let  to  stay  on 
eart.  As  it  is,"  he  says,  "I  'm  de  miser- 
ablest  of  mortals.  But,"  he  says,  "if  you 
will  tell  dat  Oriental  valet  of  mine— if  you 
can  find  him— to  tell  me  tired  butler— if  he 
can  find  him— to  fetch  a  small  bottle— if  he 
can  find  it— I  '11  tank  you  to  learn  him  how 
to  open  it  witout  a  popping  dat  reminds  me 
of  de  day  when,  wit  one  odder  poisson  who 
shall  be  nameless,  I  charged  up  Sam  Juan's 
Hill." 

And  dat  's  no  joke.  He  was  to  dat  war, 
but  he  never  peeps  a  woid  about  it,  except  to 
me.  He  says  it  will  be  his  monument  dat 
he  charged  dat  Hill  and  never  wrote  a  book 
on  it. 

But  dose  is  n't  de  tings  I  was  going  to 
tell  you  of. 

Hark:  Wily  Widdy  has  no  town  house, 
162 


WOMAN'S    CUNNING 

so  when  she  chases  in  from  her  country 
place  to  see  a  dressmaker,  or  de  dentist,  or 
go  to  de  opray,  or  any  odder  trouble,  she 
stops  wit  frens  in  town,  and  sometimes  we 
get  her. 

"Papa,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "dear  Mrs. 
Harding"— dat  's  Widdy's  name— "has  n't 
a  home  of  her  own  in  de  city,  notting  but  a 
box  at  de  opray.  She  's  coming  in  to  push 
a  bunch  of  new  Paris  gowns  tru  de  Custom 
House,  and  I  tink  we  should  have  de  poor 
creature  here  wit  us." 

"Do  so,"  says  Whiskers.  "Do  so,  me 
dear.  And,  by  de  way,"  he  says,  "you 
has  n't  ordered  any  new  gowns  from  Paris 
yourself,  lately,"  he  says. 

"We  're  so  poor  dis  winter,"  she  says. 

"To  be  sure,"  says  Whiskers,  going  to 
his  desk.  "But  if  a  extra  check  dis  mont, 
for  two  tousand,  will  help  conceal  our  pov 
erty,  here  it  is,"  he  says,  passing  her  out 
de  check. 

Duchess  and  me  happens  to  hear  dis,  and 
afterwards  she  says  to  me,  "If  I  had  a  rich 
163 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

papa,  and- wanted  a  few  tousand  extra  pin 
money,  I  could  wish  to  be  as  conning  as 
Miss  Fannie  is." 

"What  ?s  dat?"  I  says.  "Dere  is  not- 
ting  conning  about  Miss  Fannie." 

"Not  conning— cunning,"  says  Duchess. 

"What  is  de  answer?"  I  says. 

"It  is  dis,"  says  Duchess.  "Miss  Fan 
nie  is  a  very  brave  woman.  She  get  extra 
allowance  from  her  papa  by  inviting  her 
own  rival  into  de  house." 

"Away  back!"  I  says.  "To  de  woods! 
Is  de  Widdy  Miss  Fannie 's  rival  for  Whis 
kers?" 

"Not  Weeskairs,"  says  Duchess.  "Not 
Weeskairs,  but  M'sieu  Paul." 

' '  On  your  way ! "  I  says. 

Duchess  laughs,  and  says:  "I  have  much 
regard  for  Miss  Fannie,  dat  she  is  fearless. 
She  invite  her  rival  into  de  house ;  also  she 
will  invite  M'sieu  Paul  more  dan  usual 
while  Madame  Harding  is  here,  for  to  keep 
M'sieu,  her  papa,  safe  from  de  charming 

widdy." 

164 


WOMAN'S   CUNNING 

Say,  would  n't  it  take  a  French  goil  to 
pipe-dream  a  plot  like  dose!  What?  It  's 
as  woise  as  I  ever  see  out  on  top  of  de  stoige. 
I  tells  Duchess  so,  but  she  only  gives  me 
de  laugh  and  de  shoulder  shrug. 

Well,  Widdy  floats  in,  per  Miss  Fannie 's 
invite,  and  when  I  was  unstrapping  her 
trunk  she  says  to  Miss  Fannie,  " Don't  let 
me  meet  a  soul,  me  dear, ' '  she  says.  i  i  I  've 
notting  but  rags  to  wear;  just  a  few  old 
tings  fit  for  de  opray." 

4 'Truly,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "one  may 
no  longer  wear  a  decent  gown  to  de  opray 
witout  being  mistook  for  a  member  of  de 
divorce-and-remarry  set,"  she  says.  "Dere 
will  be  no  one  at  dinner  to-night  but  Paul." 

"Oh,  he  don't  count,"  says  Widdy. 
' '  By  de  way,  Fannie, ' '  she  says,  ' '  how  shall 
we  divide  our  men  for  de  opray  to-night? 
Shall  I  take  your  fadder,  or  your  husband, 
or  Paul !  Who  do  you  want  in  your  box  ? ' ' 

"Mr.  Burton  is  out  of  town,"  says  Miss 
Fannie.     "But  you   '11  have  to  take  in  all 
de  rest  of  us,  including  me." 
165 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"How  lovely!"  says  Widdy.  "Has  you 
give  your  box  to  a  poor  relation?" 

"No,"  says  Miss  Fannie.  "It  is  a  re 
peat  night,  so,  before  I  knowed  you  was 
coming,  I  give  me  box  to  Hortense. " 

"Your  maid!"  says  Widdy.  "I  spose 
she  '11  give  up  de  box  witout  giving  notice 
of  leaving.  We  'd  better  divide  up  our 


men. ' 


Den  Miss  Fannie  smiles,  and  says  some- 
ting  to  Widdy  in  forn  langwudge.  Widdy 
hists  her  eyebrows,  says,  "Indeed!"  and 
looks  at  me  like  I  'd  made  a  hit  wit  her. 
As  dere  was  n't  no  more  trunks  to  unstrap, 
I  chases  meself. 

It  took  Widdy  days  and  days  to  con  de 
Custom  House,  but  dere  was  someting  do 
ing,  so  dat  she  got  no  chance  for  a  heart- 
to-heart  chat  wit  Whiskers  or  Mr.  Paul. 
But  one  morning  Miss  Fannie  went  out 
shopping  wit  Duchess  to  get— but  not  a  woid 
of  dat!— and  she  give  me  a  note  to  Whis 
kers  at  his  club.  Just  as  I  was  waltzing 
pass  Mr.  Paul 's  club  I  pipes  Widdy  rolling 
166 


WOMAN'S   CUNNING 

up  de  Avenoo  in  her  little  victoria,  and  she 
was  furred  like  a  Sam  Bernard  dog.  Mr. 
Paul  was  looking  out  de  club  window,  and 
him  and  Widdy  give  each  odder  de  howdy 
hand-wave.  Den  Widdy  sees  me,  stops  her 
wagon  by  de  curb,  and  motions  me  up. 

"Me  man,"  she  says,  "is  n't  dat  Mr. 
Paul's  club?" 

"Sure,  ma'am,"  I  says. 

"I  was  n't  so  sure,"  she  says.  "All 
clubs  look  alike  to  women, ' '  she  says. 

"It  looks  more  like  Mr.  Paul's  club  dan 
anybody  else's,  when  you  nods  to  Mr.  Paul 
in  de  window,"  I  says. 

Foist  she  give  me  de  haughty  stare. 
Den  she  laughs,  and  says,  ' '  I  remember  dat 
Fannie  allows  you  great  license  in  your 
speech,"  she  says.  "By  de  way,  Chames, " 
she  says,  "did  I  remember  you  on  Christ 
mas!" 

"You  forgot  to  remember,  ma'am,"  I 
says. 

"Here,  den,"  she  says,  digging  one  of 
your  Uncle  Sammy's  one-spot  green  wafers 
167 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

out  of  her  ridicule.  "I  wish,"  she  says, 
"dat  you  'd  go  to  de  club,  and  say  to  Mr. 
Paul  dat  dere  's  a  new  tangle  in  me  Custom 
House  affair,  and  I  need  his  advice.  Say 
dat  I  would  n't  bodder  him  to  come  at  once 
to  Fannie 's  house  to  see  me  about  it,  except 
dat,  unfortunately,  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  and 
Fannie  is  bote  out,  so  dere  is  nobody  I  can 
advise  wit  unless  he  comes.  You  under 
stand,  Chames,  do  you?"  she  says. 

t '  Not  quite  right,  all  right, ' '  I  says. 

She  pinches  anodder  wafer  from  her 
bunch,  and  passes  it  out  to  me. 

"Now  do  you  understand?"  she  says. 

"Like  a  book,  ma'am,"  says  I. 

She  drives  off  home,  and  I  goes  to  de  club 
and  gives  me  message  to  Mr.  Paul.  When 
I  was  tru  he  says,  *  *  Dis  Custom  House  busi 
ness  is  troublesome,  Chames." 

"It  's  to  de  bad,"  I  says. 

"It  must  be  conducted  wit  delicacy  and 
—and  secrecy." 

"S-sh!"  says  I. 

Well,  he  dug  into  his  jeans,  and  he  pun- 
168 


WOMAN'S   CUNNING 

gles    a    green    wafer,    too— anodder    one 
spot. 

Say,  as  I  waltzes  on  down  to  Whiskers 's 
club  I  was  dreaming  dreams.  I  was  tree 
wafers  to  de  good,  and  Duchess  not  on! 

I  gives  Whiskers  Miss  Fannie 's  note,  and 
he  says,  "Is  all  me  people  away  from 
home?" 

"Mrs.  Harding  is  to  de  house,  sir,"  I 
says,  "and  in  trouble  again  about  de  cus 
toms,"  I  says. 

"Dear  me!"  says  Whiskers.  "I  '11  not 
be  able  to  join  Fannie  at  Del's  for  lunch," 
he  says.  "I  must  go  home  at  once  and 
help  Mrs.  Harding  wit  her  affairs.  It 
was  tautful  of  you  to  mention  dis  to  me, 
Chames, ' '  he  says,  and  p  'chee !  he  squeezes 
a  one-spot  wafer  from  his  westcot,  passes 
it  out  to  me,  and  makes  tracks  for  home. 

Honest,  I  was  feeling  dat  if  I  owned  any 
more  of  de  island  I  'd  be  land  poor.  I  floats 
down  de  Avenoo,  to  see  which  way  de  tide 
was  running,  and  I  plumps  into  Miss  Fan 
nie  and  Duchess,  going  from  a  shop  to  de 
169 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

carriage.  Miss  Fannie  asks  me  did  I  give 
her  note  to  her  fadder,  and  I  says  I  did. 
Den  she  says  was  he  going  to  meet  her  at 
Del's? 

"I  tink  not,  Miss  Fannie,"  I  says.  "I 
tink  he  will  lunch  at  home. ' ' 

"But  dere  is  no  one  at  home,"  she  says. 

"Mrs.  Harding  is  dere,"  I  says. 

Miss  Fannie  was  jolted  only  half  a  sec 
ond.  Den  she  came  up  smiling,  and  she 
says:  "I  'm  afraid  dey  '11  starve  to  deat 
witout  me,  for  I  left  no  order  for  lunch. 
Home!"  she  says  to  coachy. 

When  I  gets  home  Duchess  comes  to 
me  and  says:  "Master  Cheemes,  Miss 
Fannie  says  you  were  a  very  good  boy  to 
give  her  a  hint.  She  is  so  particular 
about  her  lunches.  She  give  me  dis  for 


Duchess  flashed  anodder  one-spot  wafer, 
and  by  dat  time  I  'd  seen  so  many  I  was 
near  blinded. 

"I  '11  keep  it  for  you,"  Duchess  says, 
"and,  mon  ami,  if  you  please,  I  will  take 
170 


WOMAN'S   CUNNING 
de  odder  tips  you  has  got  dis  lovely  morn 


ing." 


"Hully  chee!"  I  says.  "How  do  you 
know  I  has  any!" 

"Because,"  says  Duchess,  "when  Miss 
Fannie  come  in,  and  say  sweetly  to  Madame 
Harding  and  de  gents,  'I  am  so  glad  I  hap 
pen  home  to  keep  you  from  starving,'  dey 
all  looks  so  imbecile,  I  know  dere  has  been 
mischief.  You  helps  in  no  mischief  witout 
tips." 

Say,  dere  is  no  use  kicking  at  hard  luck, 
but  what  do  you  link  of  datl  I  win  four 
races,  straight,  and  den  gets  touched  by 
Duchess,  who  had  n't  even  been  to  de  race 
track  ! 


171 


XIII 
WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK 


XIII 
WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK 

I  WAS  out  in  de  stables  learning  de 
coachman's  boy  to  dance  jig  steps. 
He  's  a  good  boy,  only  he  has  two  left  feet, 
and  I  could  learn  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  doll 
to  dance  easier  nor  him.  But  his  dad  wants 
de  kid  learned  all  de  fashionable  stunts,  so 
I  does  me  best;  for,  next  to  de  cook  and 
housekeeper,  nobody  is  so  useful  to  be 
chummy  wit  as  Coachy.  Well,  I  was  trying 
a  jig  what  could  be  danced  wit  de  left  feet, 
when  Miss  Fannie  sends  for  me.  I  goes 
to  de'  library,  and  Mr.  Paul  was  dere, 
and  Whiskers.  Miss  Fannie  says  to  me, 
"Chames,"  she  says,  "Paul  wants  to  bor 
row  you  for  a  few  days. " 

"It  is  to  go  on  a  wedding  joiney,"  says 
Mr.  Paul. 

175 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

i 'Is  it  your  own  wedding,  sir?"  I  says, 
wondering  what  was  doing. 

"No,"  says  he.  "If  it  was,  I  could  get 
along  wit  me  own  Oriental  valet.  It  is  a 
Virginia  wedding,  so  I  must  take  you  to 
do  diplomatic  woik,  and  me  Chap  valet  for 
de  common  or  garden  variety  of  duty." 

I  never  was  to  Virginia,  so  when  I  waltzes 
over  to  Mr.  Paul  to  get  him  ready  to  start, 
I  asks  what  kind  of  place  was  dis  we  was 
going  to. 

"Virginia,"  he  says,  "is  a  State  of  joy, 
and  of  de  Union,"  he  says.  "It  produces 
large  and  rich  crops  of  tobacco,  hunt  clubs, 
and  hospitality.  We  will  be  dere  two  days, 
but  wit  your  help  I  link  I  can  get  out  alive 
wit  eighteen  trunks." 

"Is  we  to  open  a  trunk  store,  sir!"  I 
says. 

"I  may  open,"  he  says,  "a  few  jack-pots, 
but  netting  woise.  De  trunks  is  needed  to 
save  me  life.  What  close  I  wants  to  wear, 
put  in  a  suit-case." 

I  had  to  let  it  go  at  dat,  for  when  Mr. 
176 


WHEN  GREEK  MEETS   GREEK 

Paul  tries  he  can  say  as  many  woids  dat 
don't  mean  netting  as  a  orator.  So  Chap 
and  me  gets  busy  and  packs.  We  grabs 
all  de  close  in  de  house:  winter  close,  sum 
mer  close,  city,  country,  yachting,  hunting, 
golf,  and  any  old  line  of  close  we  struck, 
and  we  packs  and  packs  till  we  sends  off 
a  wagon-load.  Den  Mr.  Paul  tells  Chap 
to  take  de  suit-case,  me  to  get  tickets,  and 
we  was  off. 

Honest,  I  was  near  croisy  wit  wandering 
what  was  de  game,  but  says  netting  till  we 
gets  to  de  depot  in  Virginia,  when  I  asks 
what  was  I  to  do  wit  de  trunks. 

"Netting  yet,"  he  says.  "Take  de  suit 
case,  quick,  and  perhaps  we  can  make  a 
rush  to  de  hotel." 

We  did  n't.  Just  as  we  was  butting  into 
a  carriage  a  gent  makes  a  dive  for  Mr.  Paul. 

"Me  dear  old  chap,"  he  says,  "you  got 
me  letter?" 

"So  good  of  you,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  rub 
bering  like  he  was  a  bit  noivous. 

"Your  room  is  all  ready,"  says  de  gent. 
177 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Send  your  trunk  right  to  me  house,"  he 
says. 

"Chames,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "send  me 
trunk  to  dis  gent's  house." 

"Which  one!  "says  I. 

"He  has  but  one  house,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
looking  at  me  hard. 

I  was  n't  quite  on,  but  touches  me  hat, 
and  sends  a  trunk  where  he  tells  me.  • 

* 1 1  'm  off  to  business  now, ' '  says  de  gent, 
"but  I  '11  see  you  at  de  club  later." 

' '  Sure, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul,  and  de  gent  was 
on  his  way. 

"Send  me  Chapanese  to  de  hotel  wit  me 
suit-case,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "It  's  de  best 
we  can  do  now.  Here  comes  anodder  f  ren. ' ' 

De  next  fren  waltzes  up,  gives  Mr.  Paul 
a  double  hand-shake,  and  says,  "So  glad 
you  got  me  letter,  old  chap.  Send  your 
trunk  right  to  me  house." 

"So  good  of  you,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  pass 
ing  a  troubled  eye  up  de  street.    ' '  Chames, ' ' 
he  says,  "you  was  just  going  to  send  me 
trunk  to  dis  gent's  house." 
178 


WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK 

"In  a  minute/'  I  says,  digging  anodder 
trunk  check  out  of  me  jeans. 

"We  hunt  to-day,"  says  de  gent.  "I  11 
have  a  mount  for  you  at  de  meet.  Now 
I  'm  off  to  look  over  me  mail.  Pick  you 
up  at  de  club  later." 

"All  right,  old  chap,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
and  de  second  gent  was  on  his  way. 

"Now,  Chames,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "if  I  'm 
seen  at  de  hotel  bote  dose  gents  will  chal 
lenge  me.  Let  us  go  to  de  club,  and  do  de 
best  we  can.  De  club  manager  will  let  you 
stop  in  de  hall.  Keep  a  smart  eye  open,  and 
when  you  see  a  new  fren  headed  for  me, 
cut  me  loose  from  any  bunch  of  gents  I  'm 
wit,  so  as  I  '11  be  sure  to  meet  each  fren 
alone.  In  dat  way  I  may  escape  a  duel." 

Say,  we  only  gets  to  de  club  steps  when 
a  toid  fren  cops  Mr.  Paul,  and  tells  him 
on  his  life  to  send  his  trunk  to  his  house. 
Mr.  Paul  says  sure,  dey  chins  a  little,  den 
de  gent  says,  "I  'm  on  me  way  to  business 
now,  but  some  of  de  youngsters  inside  will 
look  out  for  you  till  I  get  back." 
179 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

I  woiks  de  telephone,  gets  off  de  toid 
trunk,  den  hears  anodder  gent  ask  de  door 
man  where  was  Mr.  Paul.  I  tips  de  wink 
to  Mr.  Paul,  he  meets  de  gent  in  de  hall, 
and  dey  goes  tru  de  game  of  talk  as  per 
usual.  When  dey  was  done,  Mr.  Paul  passes 
me  out  a  bunch  of  five  cards,  and  tells  me 
to  hustle  off  trunks  to  all  deir  addresses. 

Well,  by  de  time  de  foist  gents  and  odders 
begun  chasing  in  for  lunch,  I  'd  woiked  off 
de  whole  eighteen  trunks.  Den  de  baggage- 
master  sends  woid  to  de  police  dat  a  croisy 
man  at  de  club  was  scattering  dude  bag 
gage  all  over  de  county,  and  ought  to  be 
attended  to.  So  I  gets  a  hurry  call  from 
Headquarters,  and  had  to  chase  dere  and 
square  tings  wit  de  chief.  He  says  Mr. 
Paul  was  taking  big  chances,  but  he  'd  call 
out  de  resoives  for  him  in  case  of  riot. 
When  I  gets  back  to  de  club  I  says  to  Mr. 
Paul,  "Scuse  me,"  I  says,  "but  which  of 
dose  eighteen  houses  is  you  going  to  sleep 
in,  so  I  '11  know  where  to  send  your  suit 
case  1 ' ' 

180 


WHEN   GREEK  MEETS   GREEK 

"Sleep,  Chames?"  he  says,  mopping  his 
for'd.  "You  has  yet  to  learn  de  customs 
of  de  country. ' ' 

Listen.  I  'm  giving  it  to  you  straight. 
Before  lunch  Mr.  Paul  promised  to  go  to 
a  dozen  hunts,  about  twenty  country  clubs, 
a  bunch  of  golf  clubs,  and  a  few  plain  every 
day  city  clubs.  But  nobody  made  a  start 
to  go  nowhere.  All  hands  was  happy  spin 
ning  yarns  and — well,  I  tell  no  tales  out 
of  school,  but  a  coon  waiter  dere  has  learned 
my  trick  of  pulling  out  de  plugs.  I  got  a 
few  winks  of  sleep  in  a  quiet  corner  where 
de  hall  boys  was,  but  Mr.  Paul  sat  in  wit 
his  frens  like  he  'd  been  a  Virginian  since 
deir  governors  wore  wigs  and  knee  pants. 
De  next  morning,  about  sun-up,  when  de 
last  fren  was  on  his  way  home,  we  makes 
a  quiet  sneak  to  de  hotel.  Mr.  Paul  gets 
a  bat',  shave,  and  breakfast,  dresses  for  de 
early  wedding,  and  I  tags  along  to  watch 
his  frens  go  into  de  choich.  Say,  de  gents 
had  all  been  to  deir  offices,  but  dey  all  comes 
up  smiling  for  de  wedding,  looking  like 
181 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

dey  'd  trained  for  a  year  to  see  how  fresh 
dey  could  look  on  dat  day.  Dey  is  wonders 
for  fair.  Mr.  Paul  says  it  's  because  dey 
rides  so  much.  Maybe  dey  has  a  short  sad 
dle  track  in  de  club  basement.  I  don 't  know. 

After  de  wedding  Mr.  Paul  hikes  around 
making  afternoon  calls  on  de  eighteen 
houses  where  his  trunks  was  at.  Each  place 
he  tells  de  missus  dat  he  'd  send  me  for  his 
trunk,  for  he  was  leaving  in  de  evening. 
He  says  what  a  lovely  time  he  'd  had  at 
deir  houses,  and  dey  says  how  pleased  dey 
was  to  have  him  dere— never  cracking  a 
smile.  Dey  is  torrowbreds. 

When  we  gets  back  home,  Whiskers  asks 
Mr.  Paul  what  kind  of  a  time  did  he  have 
in  Virginia. 

"Nice  quiet  time,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"When  I  feels  de  need  of  poifect  rest,  I 
goes  to  Virginia  for  a  few  days." 

"I  understand,"  says  Wliiskers,  "dat  de 
foist  families  keeps  up  de  good  old  colonial 
manner  of  life— early  dinners,  early  to  bed, 
and  dat  sort  of  ting." 
182 


WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK 

"Curfew  rings  at  eight  o'clock  in  Vir 
ginia,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Any  one  caught 
out  of  bed  after  dat  colonial  hour  is  sent 
to  jail." 

Miss  Fannie  looks  hard  at  Mr.  Paul,  den 
she  smiles  to  herself,  and  says  to  her  dad, 
"Paul  looks  like  he  'd  slept  all  de  time  he 
was  in  Virginia.  Should  you  not  offer  him 
a  glass  of  wine  to  wake  him  up!" 

"Soitainly,"  says  Whiskers.  "Chames, 
a  bottle." 

"I  '11  not  trouble  you,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"A  few  days  in  Virginia  makes  me  a  cold- 
water  man  for  weeks  afterward.  One 
quickly  gets  out  of  de  habit  of  taking  any- 
ting  but  spring  water,  down  dere." 

"Any  particular  spring?"  asks  Miss 
Fannie. 

' '  I  remember  one, ' '  he  says.  "  It  is  called 
High  Bald  Mountain  Spring." 

"Since  you  has  been  away  it  has  been 
radder  dry  here,  too,"  says  Whiskers. 

"What   's  de  matter!"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"Been  discussing  de  Cuban  question?" 
183 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"I  do  not  allow  dat  question  to  be  men 
tioned  in  me  presence, "  says  Whiskers. 

"Dat  's  de  way  to  settle  it,"  says  Mr. 
Paul.  "Make  it  treason  to  mention  it." 

"It  should  be,"  says  Whiskers.  "Dose 
wicked  agitators  should  be  hanged  each 
time  dey  speaks.  Is  de  widdies  and  orphans 
who  makes  beet-sugar  machinery  to  have 
deir  bread  snatched  from  deir  mouts?  De 
bullying  Boloman  must  give  up  de  bullet 
before  he  asks  for  de  ballot. ' ' 

"Right!"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Down  wit 
Lexington  and  Concord!" 

"Is  de  tangled  Tagalog,  fighting  for  free 
dom,  to  be  rewarded  wit  de  franchise?  Dat 
would  be  an  invitation  to  all  our  colonies 
to  ask  de  same  rights." 

"If  dey  asks  for  liberty  or  deat,  let  us 
be  generous  and  give  'em  bote,"  says  Mr. 
Paul.  "I  see,  sir,"  he  says,  "dat  you  has 
grasped  de  very  bull's-eye  of  dis  matter, 
and  sifted  it  to  a  crystal  point  where  it 
stands  upon  its  own  bottom,  asking  no  cards, 
but  wit  lance  at  rest  scorning  de  gilder's 
184 


WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK 

art  to  prove  de  sweetness  of  its  bouquet. 
Let  Cubans  engage  in  some  honester  busi 
ness  dan  raising  cane.  As  for  de  Philip 
pines,  did  n't  we  get  de  decision?  Do  dey 
not  know  when  dey  are  down  and  out? 
Must  we  send  'em  a  Beveridge  to  count  ten 
at  'em!  No!  War  is  what  General  Sher 
man  said  it  was— but  not  a  Beveridge!" 

"Me  dear  Paul,"  says  Whiskers,  "I  am 
charmed  to  hear  you  talk  so  sensibly.  It 
may  be  de  result  of  your  spring-water  ex 
perience  in  Virginia." 

"Maybe,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Mrs.  Bur 
ton,"  he  says  to  Miss  Fannie,  "may  we  not 
have  some  tea!" 


185 


XIV 
THE  HOUSE  PARTY 


XIV 
THE   HOUSE   PARTY 

NOW,  all  de  swells  like  our  folks  won't 
have  no  homes  in  little  old  New  York, 
pretty  soon;  only  bedrooms,  and  dressing- 
rooms,  to  use  when  someting  important,  like 
de  opray  or  de  dog  show,  fetches  'em  in 
town.  I  used  to  get  a  chance  in  winter  for 
a  stroll  down  de  line  wit  me  old  gang,  or 
to  show  de  style  of  Duchess  at  a  ball  of  de 
Roseleaf  Social  Outing  and  Life-saving 
Club.  Now  de  winter  is  as  woise  as  de  sum 
mer—it  's  country  all  de  time. 

I  '11  soon  be  a  farmer  for  fair:  Duchess 
will  be  churning  cheese  and  picking  jam, 
while  I  'm  tapping  de  grape-vine  for  wine, 
and  husking  hops  for  beer. 

Nowdays  we  no  sooner  gets  de  town  house 
aired,  warmed  up,  and  running  easy,  dan 
189 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

we  chases  back  to  de  tall  grass  to  give  a 
house  party  or  go  to  one.  I  'd  radder  give 
dan  go,  for  de  home  soivants  collars  all  de 
tips,  and  visiting  soivants  gets  notting  but 
extra  woik— and  a  jolly.  Except  Duchess. 
If  ever  she  ran  over  a  man  on  her  bike 
she  'd  land  a  tip  from  him  while  he  was 
waiting  for  de  ambulance  doctor. 

Well,  de  odder  day  Miss  Fannie  tells  me 
and  Duchess  to  get  her  and  Mr.  Burton 
ready  to  go  to  a  house  party,  what  was  give 
by  some  mugs  in  a  country  house  near  as 
big  as  Madison  Square's  Garden.  Dey  has 
a  lake,  too.  Dere  was  skating  on  de  lake 
in  de  day,  and  in  de  billiard-room  at  night. 

Listen:  I  asks  Mr.  Paul  was  he  going; 
for  when  he  chases  along  wit  our  folks, 
which  he  mostly  does,  I  looks  after  his  tick 
ets  and  trunks,  his  valet  being  a  Chap  from 
Chapan,  who  ain't  wise  on  American  ways. 
Once  he  landed  Mr.  Paul  and  his  trunks  in 
Boston  to  keep  a  dinner  engagement  in  Bal 
timore. 

"Yes,  Chames,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "I  shall 
190 


THE  HOUSE  PARTY 

'tend  dis  house  party  as  a  penance  for  me 
sins,"  he  says.  "Man,"  he  says,  "not  to 
mention  lovely  woman,  being  a  fool  of  great 
specific  gravity,  builds  comfortable  homes 
where  he  can  live  in  quiet  and  reclusion, 
and  den  shuts  'em  up,  or  else  fills  'em  wit 
odder  fools  to  destroy  his  quiet,  and  put 
him  in  training  for  de  hereafter— if  de 
woise  comes  to  de  woist. 

"We  boast,  Chames,  of  our  mental  sauces, 
but  all  de  same,"  he  says,  "dere  are  but 
few  of  us  able  to  entertain  ourselves  if  trim 
upon  our  own  sauces  of  recreation.  When 
we  buys  an  Old  Master,  or  hires  a  great 
chef,  or  learns  to  play  de  banjo,  or  do  any 
of  de  odder  highly  intellectual  stunts  dat 
distinguishes  us  from  flat  or  cave  dwellers, 
we  pretends  it  is  all  for  our  own  improve 
ment.  Nay,  nay!  "he  says.  "Not  a  bit  like 
it.  We  gets  our  dividends  on  such  invest 
ments  only  when  our  friends  praise  our 
table,  our  picture,  or  our  rag-time. 

"Derefore,"  he  says,  "let  us  gadder  at 
de  house  party;  not  to  be  entertained  by 
191 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

our  friend's  accomplishments,  but  to  do  an 
act  of  charity:  to  justify  him  in  his  own 
eyes  for  de  boodle  he  has  charred,  buying 
tings  he  enjoys  only  when  he  shows  'em 
off." 

"We  is  going  to  de  dogs,"  I  says,  chip 
ping  in  for  luck. 

"Not  so,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "We  is  going 
away  from  'em.  Dogs  is  honest  gentlemen, 
noted  for  deir  preference  for  old-fashioned 
ways,  love  of  home,  and  aversion  from  ken 
nel  parties.  We  is  going  away  from  de 
dogs,  Chames. 

"If  you  will  give  my  valet  a  point  or 
two,  so  he  will  not  land  me  in  Oshkosh,  and 
me  trunks  in  Cohoes,  I  '11  try,"  he  says, 
"to  reach  de  house  party  before  de  cellar 
runs  dry." 

But  Duchess  has  a  glad  eye  for  house  par 
ties.  She  can  do  fancy  stunts  wit  loidies' 
hair  deir  own  maids  can't  do,  and  she  nails 
more  tips  dan  de  home  soivants  do.  Dat  's 
de  reason  when  we  got  to  de  house  party  I 
seen  no  more  of  her  dan  she  did  de  back  of 
192 


THE   HOUSE   PARTY 

her  own  neck.  But  I  had  de  time  of  me  life 
wit  a  housemaid  dere  I  used  to  skate  wit  in 
Central  Park. 

Was  I  a  skater  when  I  was  a  kid!  Say, 
I  used  to  cut  figures  all  around  Champeen 
Willie  Gibson  in  dose  days.  Dat  goes  if  he 
hears  it. 

Well,  me  goil  fren  had  n't  enough  to  do 
to  keep  her  awake  after  sundown  till  I  says 
to  her,  "Molly,"  I  says,  "have  a  skate  wit 
me  dis  evening,"  I  says,  "for  old  rocks' 
sake." 

"You  're  booked,  Chimmie, "  she  says. 
"When  de  folks  is  all  busy  wit  bridge  or 
ping-pong,  we  '11  do  an  old-time  toin,  just 
to  show  de  man  in  de  moon  dere  is  some  of 
us  left,"  she  says. 

Molly  ain't  no  dairymaid  herself. 
Say,  a  lot  of  odder  couples  was  in  de  same 
alley.    Dere  was  about  a  dozen  of  'em  wThat 
taut  everybody  else  would  be  up  to  deir  ears 
in  bridge,  and  so  not  miss  a  couple  who  'd 
sneaked  out  for  a  skate.    But  de  odder  cou 
ples  was  folks,  not  soivants. 
13  193 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

Molly  and  me  was  sliding  over  de  ice, 
doing  de  inside  and  de  outside  coive,  and 
chin-chinning  of  old  times,  when  we  makes 
out  dat  here  and  dere,  where  de  moon  trun 
shadows  of  trees  over  de  lake,  dose  odder 
couples  was  doing  a  quiet  toin  of  skate  by 
deir  lonesomes. 

"We  'd  better  chase  ourselves,"  I  says. 
"Dese  is  folks,  and  if  dey  cops  who  we  is 
dey  will  send  us  dancing  jigs  to  mile-stones. 
On  our  way ! "  I  says. 

"Tut,  Chimmie,"  she  says.  "You  has 
de  rattles.  Don't  you  tumble  dat  none  of 
'em  wants  to  be  seen?  We  is  de  only  ones 
what  is  n't  shy  of  de  moonlight."  Was  I 
telling  you  she  was  n't  born  far  from  de 
Bowery? 

"Well,"  I  says,  "dere  is  some  air-holes 
in  dose  shady  places  dat  will  make  a  fine 
cold-water  plunge  for  somebody  in  about  a 
minute. ' ' 

Say,  I  called  de  toin,  dat  time. 

De  couples  was  skating  easy,  like,  and 
talking  in  whispers,  and  Molly  and  me 
194 


THE  HOUSE   PARTY 

was  n  't  keeping  de  snowboids  awake,  neider, 
when  all  of  a  suddent  dere  was  a  crash,  a 
woman's  squeal,  and  some  langwudge  by  a 
man.  I  knowed  what  had  happened  and 
started  for  de  trouble,  but  Molly  giggled, 
and  says,  "Keep  your  seat,  Chimmie.  We 
has  a  right  to  see  de  next  act.  De  water 
is  n't  deep  enough  to  drown  'em." 

What  do  you  tink!  Not  a  one  of  de  odder 
couples  lent  a  hand.  Instead,  dere  was  a 
hustling  away  from  de  trouble. 

"Dose  folks  has  n't  been  introduced," 
says  Molly. 

Just  den  de  folks  taking  de  cold  sponge 
made  a  louder  yell,  and,  chee !  I  knowed  deir 
voices— Whiskers  and  Wily  Widdy! 

"Hustle!"  I  says  to  Molly.  "It  's  up  to 
us  to  do  de  life-saving  act. ' ' 

Well,  we  slides  over  to  de  hole,  and  fishes 
out  Whiskers  and  Widdy.  Dey  was  n't 
saying  a  woid.  We  truns  our  coats  over 
'em,  yanks  off  deir  skates,  sneaks  'em  into 
de  house  by  a  side  door,  and  gets  'em  to 
deir  rooms  wit  no  one  de  wiser. 
195 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

I  goes  in  wit  Whiskers,  rubs  half  de  skin 
off  him,  fetches  him  someting  hot,  and  puts 
him  into  evening  close.  He  never  peeped 
till  he  was  ready  to  go  down-stairs.  Den 
he  says,  passing  me  out  a  five,  "Chames, 
you  mitigated  scamp,"  he  says,  "you  has 
just  waked  me  from  me  after-dinner  nap, 
has  n't  you?" 

"Sure,"  I  says. 

An  hour  after  dat  I  was  helping  de  house- 
soivants  give  de  bridgers  someting  to  keep 
'em  from  starving,  and  I  sees  Whiskers  and 
Widdy  holding  cards,  and  looking  like  dey 
could  n't  tell  a  pair  of  skates  from  a  pair 
of  jacks. 

Say,  all  de  good  actors  is  n't  in  de  tee- 
aters. 

Molly  told  me  dat  Widdy  pungled  a  five, 
and  I  taut  de  game  was  all  over,  and  not  a 
bad  one  at  dat. 

But  listen:  de  next  day  I  heard  Miss  Fan 
nie  say  to  Widdy,  "I  'm  so  distressed,  me 
dear,  dat  you  has  such  a  dreadful  cold." 

"It  's  only  a  slight  one,"  says  Widdy, 
19G 


THE   HOUSE   PARTY 

"I  took  in  de  billiard-room  when  de  win 
dow  was  opened  by  some  one,"  she  says, 
"who  overlooked  de  fact  dat  me  waist  was 
composed  of  only  a  belt  and  two  shoulder- 
straps.  ' ' 

"How  stupid  of  him,"  says  Miss  Fan 
nie,  "to  overlook  such  a  matter!" 

And  de  looks  dey  gave  put  me  on  dat 
Miss  Fannie  knew,  and  Widdy  knew  she 
knew. 

Den  I  hears  Mr.  Paul  say  to  Whiskers, 
"Let  me  recommend,  sir,  me  pet  cold  cure. 
It  is  one  pint  hot  rum,  half  a  pint  honey, 
six  cloves,  de  juice  of  one  lemon,  and— 

"Why  me?"  says  Whiskers,  but  he  had 
a  voice  on  him  like  a  hobo  who  'd  slept 
under  a  wharf  for  a  year. 

"You  could  use  it,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "in 
case  of  emergency." 

"I  11  cross  dat  bridge  when  I  comes  to 
it,"  says  Whiskers. 

"Let  us  hope  de  bridge  will  be  strong 
enough  for  two,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  and  bote 
grinned,  but  says  netting. 
197 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

I  chases  to  Molly  and  asks  her  what  kind 
of  a  silly  she  was  to  go  and  tell  de  yarn  of 
de  cold  plunge.  She  swore  she  never  give 
it  away,  and  I  was  going  to  ask  her  how, 
den,  did  Miss  Fannie  and  Mr.  Paul  know. 
But  I  taut  again,  and  did  n't  ask. 

Say,  I  was  shaking  hands  wit  meself 
'cause  Duchess  was  n't  wise  on  de  strike 
I  'd  made.  But  what  's  de  use?  When  she 
begins  to  rubber  you  may  as  well  lay  down 
your  hand. 

"Chames, "  she  says,  "you  has  been  too 
good  to  be  true  lately.  You  was  missing 
from  de  house  one  evening,  and  so  was  dat 
Bowery  cat,  Molly,  and  so  was  Mr.  Van 
Courtlandt  and  Widdy.  Last  night  you 
was  teaching  Mr.  Paul's  Chapanese  valet 
to  play  poker,  and  you  showed  a  five-dollar 
bill.  I  heard  of  it.  You  got  it  in  some  mis 
chief,  and  all  dese  colds  floating  about  has 
to  do  wit  it.  Give  me  de  five  and  look  cheer 
ful,  Chames,"  she  says.  "Yield  de  five  to 
me,  or  I  '11  tell  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  dat  you 
told  me." 

198 


THE   HOUSE   PARTY 

"But  I  has  n't  told  you,"  I  says. 

"So  you  has  someting  to  tell,  eh,  mon 
ami?  Yield,  Chames,  for  if  I  tell  Whiskers 
you  has  told,  he  '11  take  a  strap  to  you. ' ' 

On  de  level,  a  Bowery  boy  is  right  in  it, 
except  when  he  tries  to  flimflam  a  French 
maid! 

I  yielded. 


199 


XV 

AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 


XV 

AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 

A  FEW  days  ago  Mr.  Paul  was  to  our 
house  waiting  for  de  folks  to  come 
home  from  a  drive,  and  he  sends  Perkins, 
de  butler,  for  me.  Dat  makes  Perky  croisy, 
for  I  cops  de  tips.  Mr.  Paul  was  looking 
like  he  had  no  fren  on  eart  but  a  yeller  dog, 
and  had  lost  de  dog. 

"Chames,"  he  says,  "if  Mr.  Van  Court- 
landt's  cellar  has  not  suspended  payment 
I  shall  ask  you  to  cash  my  draft  dereon  for 
one  small  bottle.  Me  mental  vision,"  he 
says,  "is  o'ercast  by  a  poiple  cloud,  which 
may  be  dissipated  by  de  laughter  of  de 
peasant  goils  of  France— which  de  same 
is  de  sound  of  bubbles  bursting  in  a  glass, ' ' 
he  says. 

He  talks  like  a  actor  out  on  top  of  de 
stoige,  sometimes. 

203 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

I  fetches  de  bot,  and  Mr.  Paul  looks  tru 
a  glass  wit  one  eye,  like  lie  was  rubbering 
to  see  de  laughing  goils.  Den  he  says : 

"As  a  fren  of  mine  once  obsoived,  'de 
times  is  out  of  joint.'  I  '11  not  mention  me 
fren's  name,  for  he  is  not  popular  in  our 
set,  and  if  I  was  known  to  know  him,"  he 
says,  "I  would  lose  de  esteem  of  polite 
society. 

"New  York,"  he  says,  "is  no  longer  a 
community;  it  is  a  Union  Railway  station. 
'Hotels  to  de  right  of  you;  teeaters  to  de 
left  of  you;  stock-tickers  in  front  of  you, 
loidies  and  gents!  Twenty  minutes  for 
refreshments,  amusements,  and  business! 
Step  lively,  please!  Bote  gates!  All 
aboard ! ' 

1  *  Dat  's  New  York,  Chames. ' ' 
' '  Sure, ' '  I  says.    ' '  It  has  two  left  feet. ' ' 
"It  has  notting  dat  is  natural,"  he  says. 
"De  social  graces  are  as  dead  as  Queen 
Anne,  and  more  forgot.    To  be  able  to  con 
verse  is  to  invite  suspicion  of  caring  for 
books,  music,  painting.    Deadly !"  he  says. 
204 


AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 

"Private  entertainment  is  a  lost  art,  remem 
bered  only  to  be  hissed.  A  loidy,  now, 
shudders  at  de  task  of  taking  care  of  a  din 
ner  party,  after  de  dinner,  witout  de  aid  of 
some  noxious  little  tenor,  a  rag-time  pest, 
or  a  English  monologist.  A  stag  dinner 
witout  de  artful  help  of  a  poisson  in  skirts 
who  can— and  does— kick  de  hat  off  de  tall 
est  guest,  would  be  hooted,"  he  says. 

"Police!"  says  I. 

"Dere  is  now  no  use,"  he  says,  "for  old- 
fashioned  mugs  like  me,  brung  up  in  de 
idea  dat  New  York  had  a  society  wort  culti 
vating  for  its  own  sake,  not  for  de  sake  of 
invitations  to  country  places,  golf  clubs, 
polo  grounds,  hunt  meets,  house  parties, 
yacht  cruises,  or  summer  cottages.  New 
York  is  now  a  social  clearing-house,  whose 
banks  all  do  business  out  of  town,"  he 
says. 

Sometimes  Mr.  Paul  talks  like  a  piece  in 
de  poiper;  and  if  I  pulls  de  plug  from  an- 
odder  pint  he  gets  woise.     So  I  pulls  de 
plug,  and  he  goes  on  wit  his  stunt. 
205 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Consider  me  own  case,  Chames,"  he 
says.  "I  'm  still  able  to  ride  'cross  coun 
try,  if  de  fences  are  not  over  five  feet;  I 
walks  to  de  polls  every  election ;  I  can  read 
fine  print  witout  de  aid  of  glasses— except 
historical  novels,  den  I  needs  a  glass  or  two 
-has  never  had  de  doctor  or  de  spepsia, 
yet  I  'm  a  has-been.  In  me  younger  days 
honest  folks  was  content  always  to  live  in 
deir  own  houses ;  good  people  gave  dancing 
parties  in  town,  and  were  not  ashamed  of 
it;  hostesses  could  get  husky  men  to  dance 
wit  deir  goils  witout  de  aid  of  knock-out 
drops.  How  is  it  now?"  says  he. 

"On  de  bum,"  says  I. 

"Now,"  says  he,  "we  live  anywhere  but 
at  home;  give  dancing  parties  for  school- 
goils  only;  and  a  young  man  passed  eigh 
teen  would  die  of  appleplexic  chagrin"— 
is  dose  woids  willy- wonders  ?  What?— "if 
asked  to  dance  except  at  a  hunt  ball,  a  barn 
party,  a  bubble  dinner,  a  golf  tea,  or  some- 
ting  besides  a  plain,  old-fashioned  dancing 
party.  I  >m  de  only  plain  dancing  party 
206 


AT  THE  ROSELEAF   BALL 

dere  is  left.  Was  dat  Miss  Fannie  what 
just  canie  in!" 

"No,"  I  says,  taking  a  peep  into  de  hall. 
* '  It  was  Duchess,  who  was  out  getting  masks 
for  me  and  her  to  wear  to  de  bal  maskay  of 
de  Roseleaf  Social  Outing  and  Life-saving 
Club." 

"Dat  's  a  winsome  name,"  he  says. 
"Where  do  you  give  your  ball?" 

I  told  him  de  ball  was  give  in  de  hall 
over  de  restaurant  kept  by  de  goil  fren  of 
Duchess  and  her  hubby,  de  chef  what  I  was 
telling  you  of.  Mr.  Paul  taut  awhile,  den 
he  says,  "Chames,  I  shall  go  to  your  ball 
wit  a  loidy  who  has  de  wit  to  'predate  de 
situation  and  act  according." 

Listen:  dat  knocked  me.  I  tumbled  in 
a  minute  dat  de  loidy  he  meant  was  Wily 
Widdy,  for  she  's  in  town  again,  but  not 
to  our  house,  and  she  is  de  one  Mr.  Paul 
travels  wit  on  larks  like  dis.  I  was  leery 
of  trouble  of  me  own  if  she  went,  but  I 
could  n't  tell  Mr.  Paul  de  reason,  so  I  just 
says,  l  '  On  your  way,  sir ! "  I  says.  l l  Folks 
207 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

don 't  go  to  our  ball ;  only  loidies '  maids, 
valets,  butlers,  barkeeps  and  deir  steadies, 
and  de  likes  of  such." 

He  seen  I  was  up  against  it,  so  he  says, 
"I  has  no  intention  to  go  to  your  ball 
in  propria  persona,"  which  was  his  very 
langwudge. 

"You  '11  go  in  a  mask,  sir,  if  you  go  at 
all,  for  dere  is  no  impropria  personas  let 
in.  But  about  de  loidy!"  I  says,  for  I  was 
dead  leery  of  her. 

"Oh,"  he  says,  "we  shall  presoive  our 
incogniter." 

*  *  You  can  check  your  incogniter  wit  your 
hats,"  I  says. 

Den  de  folks  come  home,  and  I  chases. 
Say,  I  was  croisy,  for  fair.  It  was  dis  way: 
Whiskers  had  give  me  a  tip,  on  de  quiet,  for 
a  couple  of  tickets  to  de  ball  for  him  and 
a  sporty  old  boy  from  Boston  what  was  in 
town.  I  know  me  business,  and  I  knew  dat 
dere  would  be  someting  doing,  but  netting 
in  it  for  me,  if  Whiskers  saw  Widdy  at 
de  ball  wit  Mr.  Paul.  Duchess  might  put 
208 


AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 

me  wise  how  to  get  out  of  de  trouble,  but 
if  I  told  her  Whiskers  was  going  I  'd  have 
to  yield  up  de  tip  he  give  me.  So  I  only 
tells  her  Mr.  Paul  was  going,  and  she  laughs 
and  says,  "In  a  minute." 

I  asks  her  about  dis  "incogniter"  Mr. 
Paul  was  telling  of,  and  she  says  it  was  a 
college  woid  what  meant  "dignity." 

"All  right,  den,"  I  says.  "Mr.  Paul 
would  presoive  his  dignity  if  a  goat  was 
chasing  him  while  he  was  chasing  his  own 
hat." 

Well,  de  fat  and  de  lean  of  it  is  dis:  Just 
as  me  and  Duchess  was  starting  de  grand 
march  at  de  ball,  I  seen  Mr.  Paul  and  a 
loidy  come  in  and  go  to  a  little  table  at  one 
end  of  de  hall,  and  sit  down,  all  on  de  dead 
quiet. 

"Who  's  de  loidy?"  I  asks  Duchess,  to 
make  sure. 

"Wily  Widdy,"  she  says.     "I   'd  know 
her  shape  if  she  was  dressed  in  a  flour-sack. 
Anyway,   dat    's   de   same   lace   mask   and 
domino  I  Ve  seen  her  in  before." 
14  209 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"All  right,"  I  says.  "Let  her  go,  Mrs. 
Gallagher.  I  hopes  netting  explodes." 

Say,  de  Roseleafers  is  de  best  bunch  of 
dancers  what  ever  came  down  Main  Street, 
and  some  of  de  goils  is  strawberries  at  high 
kicking.  I  ain't  so  woise  at  de  game  me- 
self.  Well,  Duchess  and  me,  de  chef  and 
his  wife,  me  fren  de  barkeep  and  his  steady, 
and  Maggie  de  housemaid  and  her  steady 
was  doing  a  French  quadrille,  and  you 
never  seen  one  out  on  top  of  de  stoige  dat 
would  n't  look  like  toity  cents  by  de  side 
of  ours. 

I  seen  dat  Mr.  Paul  and  Widdy  was  hav 
ing  de  time  of  deir  life,  piping  de  game, 
and  I  was  hoping  dat  Whiskers  and  his 
sporty  fren  from  Boston  was  lost  in  de  Ten 
derloin,  when  I  near  drops  dead.  A  couple 
of  gazeaboos,  who  'd  been  watching  de 
dance,  yells  "Bravo!"  when  we  was  done, 
and  I  knowed  it  was  dose  two  geezers ! 

Duchess  heard,  too,  and  she  gives  me  a 
look,  and  says,  "Mon  Dieu!  if  M'sieu  Van 
Courtlandt  recognize  de  Widdy,  M'sieu 
210 


AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 

Paul  will  have  to  stop  calling  at  our  house, 
for  sure!"  she  says. 

"Go  chase  him  away,"  I  says. 

"I  cannot!"  she  says,  and  she  was  in  de 
foist  scare  I  ever  seen  her  have.  "He  seen 
de  quadrille,  and  he  may  tink  it  was  too 
lively  for  his  daughter's  maid  to  dance. 
How  could  he  got  here?"  she  says. 

"I  wonder?"  says  I. 

I  knowed  Mr.  Paul  was  de  only  hope,  so 
I  goes  to  him  and  tells  him  de  lay-out. 
Honest,  Mr.  Paul  looks  a  bit  woozy,  too. 

"Dere  is  reasons,  Chames,"  he  says, 
"why  I  'd  somewhat  radder  have  de  small 
pox  dan  have  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt— under 
de  soicumstances. " 

Say,  I  knowed  dat  was  right,  all  right. 
I  knowed  it  lighter  dan  he  did.  But  I  had 
to  give  him  a  jolt  to  make  him  get  action, 
so  I  says— pretending  not  to  know  who  she 
was— "Could  n't  your  loidy  fren  steer  him 
away?" 

"Steer  who!  "says  Widdy. 

"Whiskers,"  T  says. 
211 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

She  yelled  murder,  and  I  seen  her  face 
get  red  tru  de  black  lace. 

Maggie  de  housemaid  comes  running  up, 
not  knowing  who  I  was  talking  wit,  and  she 
says,  ' l  For  de  love  of  heaven,  Chimmie,  get 
rid  of  Whiskers  if  you  has  to  bounce  him ! ' ' 

Den  Duchess  sails  up,  and  she  says  dere 
will  soon  be  a  riot  if  Whiskers'  sporty  fren 
don't  stop  getting  gay.  "M'sieu  Van 
Courtlandt,"  she  says,  "tinks  de  quadrille 
was  danced  by  professionals,  and  he  is  hunt 
ing  for  you  to  order  it  done  again.  If  he 
knows  you  and  me  and  Maggie  was  in  dat 
set  we  all  gets  discharged!" 

i  *  Hully  chee ! "  I  says.  ' '  We  is  up  against 
it." 

"We  is!"  says  Widdy,  wit  a  gasp. 

Mr.  Paul  was  shaking  wit  laughing,  and 
he  says,  "Dis  is  a  case  where  we  can't  move 
Mike  Hornet,  so  we  must  move  de  mountain. 
Hortense, "  he  says,  "you  go  home  wit  dis 
loidy  in  my  carriage.  Chames,  you  take 
Maggie  home.  I  '11  take  de  small-pox,"  he 
says. 

212 


AT   THE   ROSELEAF   BALL 

We  four  chases. 

De  next  day  I  seen  Mr.  Paul,  and  after 
he  taut  a  long  time,  lie  says,  "Chames,  in 
de  course  of  some  artistic  lying  done  by 
me  and  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt,  explaining  our 
presence  at  de  ball,  I  learned  de  trut— dat  he 
got  his  ticket  from  you.  Was  dat  why  you 
did  n  't  want  me  to  go  ? " 

"Not  you,"  I  says— "de  loidy." 

"Why  de  loidy?"  he  says. 

"Because,"  I  says,  "when  I  give  Whis 
kers  de  tickets,  he  give  me  a  message  to 
Mrs.  Harding  dat  he  could  n't  dine  wit  her 
last  evening  because  he  had  to  go  to  a  meet 
ing  of  de  Reform  Club." 

Listen:  Mr.  Paul  did  n't  say  a  woid;  but 
he  looked  like  he  wanted  to  say  a  woid— 
one  woid. 


213 


XVI 

EXCISE  AND  INTERNATIONAL 
POLITICS 


XVI 

EXCISE   AND   INTERNATIONAL 
POLITICS 

WHAT,"  says  Whiskers- "what  is  we 
to  do  about  de  excise  law!" 

"I  has  give  de  subject  much  taut,"  says 
Mr.  Paul,  "and  derefore  cannot  break  into 
de  newspoipers  wit  me  views  on  it.  In  pri 
vate  I  may  explain  dat  de  question  dissolves 
itself  under  tree  heads:  foist,  what  rights 
has  Americans  to  say  how  New  York  shall 
be  ruled;  second,"  he  says,  "what  is  de 
forner  here  for  if  not  to  have  his  own  way; 
toid,  and  lastly,  what  has  de  honest  copper 
done  dat  we  shall  deprive  him  of  a  chance 
to  make  an  honest  million  out  of  black 
mail?" 

"But  what  is  de  law?"  asks  Miss  Fannie. 

"Me  dear  Mrs.  Burton,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
'  '  de  law  is  a  poor  ting,  but  our  own.    It  ex- 
217 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

presses  de  American  sense  dat  de  citizen 
should  be  able  to  get  as  drunk  as  is  good  for 
him— and  his  wife  and  children— in  six  days 
of  de  week.  De  Sunday-closing  law  is  a 
sample  of  Yankee  meanness,  designed  to 
compel  de  breadwinner  to  consider  de  fam 
ily  bread  before  de  family  entrance. 

"It  is  our  national  trait,"  he  says,  "to 
consider  our  own  rights  above  dose  of  de 
stranger  witin  our  gates.  We  is  narrow- 
minded:  we  tinks  de  Sunday  soivice  of  de 
meeting-house  supplies  a  better  standard  of 
life  dan  de  secret  lodge  of  de  Mafia,  de  ser 
mons  of  Madam  Emma  Goldmann,  or  de 
edicts  of  de  Clan  de  Gall." 

"Tut,  tut!"  says  Whiskers.  "De  law 
cannot  be  enforced;  and  if  it  is  enforced 
de  wicked  Democrats  will  get  back  into 
office." 

"But,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "what  papa 
says  is  so  confusing.  Which  do  you  claim, ' ' 
she  says  to  him,  "dat  de  law  cannot,  or 
should  not,  be  enforced?" 

"Really,  me  dear,"  says  Whiskers,  "your 
218 


EXCISE  AND   POLITICS 

question  is— dat  is,  it  is  n't— I  mean  it 
hasn't-" 

"It  has  n't  sense,"  chips  in  Mr.  Paul, 
looking  solemn  at  Miss  Fannie. 

"Why?"  she  says,  wit  a  laugh. 

"Because,"  he  says,  "some  of  us  be 
lieve  de  law  can't  be  enforced,  some  dat  it 
should  n  't  be ;  but  we  all  believe  it  should  n  't 
and  could  n't.  When  you  ask  which  we  be 
lieve,  it  is  as  if  you  asked,  'Why  is  a  house 
when  it  's  brick?'  Dere  is  no  answer;  and 
to  ask  a  question  what  can't  be  answered 
is  merely  feminine. ' ' 

"Dat  's  it  exactly,"  says  Whiskers. 
"You  is  feminine,  Fannie." 

"Besides,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "de  saloon  is 
de  forn  woiking-man's  club— also  his  black 
jack  and  his  knock-out.  De  rights  of  de 
forner  must  be  sacredly  protected;  even  if 
de  native  American  be  trun  out  of  house, 
home,  and  office.  What  is  Sunday  witout 
free  beer?  Rah!"  he  says,  "for  license, 
liquor,  and  loose  morals.  Down  wit  de  med 
dling  Yankee!  De  empty  cupboard  wit  a 
219 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

Sunday  drunk  is  better  dan  a  sober  Sunday 
and  a  State  Boss  who  don't  know  where 
he  's  at. 

* '  Let  us, ' '  he  says,  '  *  be  liberal ;  let  us  be 
tolerant;  let  us  all  join  in  singing  dat  new 
Hymn  of  Freedom:  'Beer,  Bossism,  and 
Blackmail.'  " 

I  don't  believe  Mr.  Paul  meant  all  he 
said.  Sometimes  he  don't.  I  seen  where  a 
geezer  wrote  dat  de  cops  could  n't  close  de 
saloons  if  dey  tried.  I  wonder  how  he 
found  it  out?  Dey  never  tried.  Roosevelt, 
you  say!  Why,  he  was  only  one  of  four. 
He  could  n't  give  de  order  to  close  for  fair, 
'cause  de  Inspectors  and  Captains  knowed 
he  could  n't  break  'em  if  dey  faked  it.  It  's 
different  dese  days.  If  de  order  went  out 
now,  and  on  de  level,  just  exactly  one  Sun 
day  would  see  de  finish— would  do  de  trick. 
Every  one  dat  knows  de  game  knows  dat. 
It  's  wort  more  dan  two  millions  in  long 
green  wafers  a  year  for  dat  order  not  to 
go  out.  But  dat  has  n't  any  ting  to  do  wit 
it.  Sure  not. 

220 


EXCISE  AND   POLITICS 

I  hears  our  folks  chinning  about  tings 
dat  sets  wheels  going  in  me  coco,  and  if  I 
don't  let  de  wheels  buzz  dey  '11  bust.  Not 
anodder  woid  about  it  but  dis:  If  I  was  a 
Reformer  and  de  people  says,  "He  's  a 
good  one;  we  '11  give  him  a  chance  to  re 
form  tings,"  do  you  know  what  I  would 
tink  was  up  to  me  to  do?  Why,  reform. 

I  says  dat  to  Mr.  Paul,  and  he  says, 
"Your  plan,  Chames,"  he  says,  "is  right 
morals,  but  wrong  politics.  A  Reformer," 
he  says,  "is  a  man  who  is  for  morals  when 
he  's  out  of  office,  but  for  politics  when  he  's 
in.  Dat  's  why  he  's  more  frequent  out 
dan  in." 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  me  trou 
bles.  So  long!  I  'm  off  for  France  wit 
Duchess.  America  is  to  de  bad,  for  fair, 
since  Prince  Henry  and  his  little  German 
band  is  going  to  butt  into  dis  country,  and 
get  de  glad  hand  from  de  Battery  to  de 
Bronx.  Duchess  won't  stand  for  it. 

"What  's  de  matter  wit  Henry?"  I  says, 
when  she  sets  up  her  holler. 
221 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

^Revanche!"  she  says.  "Alsace!"  she 
says,  i '  and  Lorraine ! " 

I  knows  none  of  dose  parties,  so  I  says 
netting,  and  she  goes  on. 

"I  'd  radder,"  she  says,  "see  dis  ridicu 
lous  country  give  fetes  to  de  oafs  Anglais 
dan  to  de  German  pigs." 

"What  's  de  answer?"  I  says. 

"Is  it  dat  you  know  not  de  history  of 
your  own  country?"  says  she. 

"Like  a  book,"  I  says.  "George  Wash 
ington  discovered  it,  Teddy  Roosevelt  saved 
it,  Andy  Carnegie  learned  it  to  read  and 
write,  and  John  L.  Sullivan  win  de  belt," 
I  says. 

"Germany  insult  Dewey,"  she  says. 

"Not  Uncle  George,"  I  says,  "or  dere 
would  n  't  be  no  Germany.  Guess  again. ' ' 

"When  you  was  wit  Spain  at  war,"  she 
says,  "Germany  wanted  to  come  over  and 
capture  New  York,  like  she  did  Paris,  but 
England  stopped  her." 

"Dat  was  good  of  dear  old  Lunnon," 

says  T. 

222 


EXCISE  AND   POLITICS 

"American  pork,  and  insurance  compa 
nies  is  kept  out  of  Germany, "  she  says. 

"Dey  is  bote  good  tings,"  I  says,  "and 
we  can't  keep  too  much  of  'em  at  home." 

"You  has  no  love  for  la  patrie,"  she  says. 
"Revanche!"  Den  she  made  faces,  and 
would  n't  speak  to  me  no  more. 

I  goes  to  Mr.  Paul,  asks  him  what  was 
doing,  and  tells  him  what  Duchess  says. 

Mr.  Paul  taut  awhile,  den  he  says: 
"Chames,  you  has  come  to  headquarters  dis 
time.  I  am  probably  de  only  living  human 
gent  what  understands  dis  whole  bunch  of 
trouble;  and  dat  is  because  I  has  devoted  a 
long  and  studious  life  to  getting  next  to  de 
game. ' ' 

Sometimes  Mr.  Paul  talks  as  straight 
English  as  me. 

"De  game,"  he  says,  "is  called  interna 
tional  politics,  which  is  de  science  of  not 
tackling  a  nation  bigger  dan  you  is,  unless 
you  has  a  gang  back  of  you  to  offset  de 
handicap.  A  big  part  of  de  game  is  to  get 
chummy  wit  any  nation  you  can't  lick  alone, 
223 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 
if  you  can't  get  a  gang  to  help  you  lick 

it." 

"Is  dere  a  scrap  coming?"  I  asks. 

"Very  likely,"  he  says.  "I  has  read  all 
de  historical  novels  of  de  last  year,  except  a 
few  hundred  dat  could  n't  be  printed  fast 
enough  for  me  to  get  a  copy,  and  I  learns 
from  dem  dat  de  glad  hand  is  a  sure  sign 

of  war. 

"Your  good  wife  Hortense,"  he  says, 
"being  of  a  French  disposition,  is  naturally 
distressed  dat  we  should  be  preparing  terra 
pin  and  canvasback  for  to  give  proper  wel 
come  to  a  gent  of  German  substraction. 
De  country  of  Hortense,"  he  says,  "once 
swung  an  upper-cut  at  de  country  of  Prince 
Henry;  but  de  enemy  side-stepped,  and  la 
belle  France's  blow  landed  on  her  own  as 
tonished  nose.  While  she  was  busy  wash 
ing  de  self-drawn  gore  off  her  own  face, 
Germany  waltzes  in  and  took  tea  on  de 
Chanze  Allezay." 

"Germany  was  give  de  decision?"  I  asks. 

"She  took  it,"  he  says.     "Den,  being 
trained   for   a  real   fight,   Germany   looks 
224 


EXCISE   AND   POLITICS 

about  to  see  who  could  she  get  into  de  ring 
wit  next,  and  earn  a  reputation  in  de  heavy 
weight  class.  De  eye  of  her  War  Lord  lit 
upon  England,  and  he  says,  'Here  's  a 
scrapper  in  me  own  class.'  He  makes  a 
face  at  England,  and  got  de  sprise  of  his 
life.  When  he  opens  his  eyes  after  making 
de  face  he  seen  England  fenced  in  on  all 
sides  wit  two  lines  of  war-ships:  dere  was 
just  four  of  'em  for  every  one  he  had.  So 
he  says  he  has  an  engagement  to  perform 
in  vaudeville  for  a  season,  and  could  n't  get 
into  de  ring  witout  breaking  a  contract  wit 
his  press-agent.  Den  he  sends  out  a  hurry 
order  for  two  gross  of  war-ships. 

"In  de  meantime,  under  Providence,  and 
de  blessing  of  community  of  interest,  dis 
country,  de  U.  S.  A.,  had  fought  tru  de 
middle-weight  class,  and  had  come  up  smil 
ing  and  looking  for  trouble.  Now,  Chames, 
under  de  rules  of  international  politics,  any 
one  not  wit  you  is  again  you. ' ' 

"Same  in  ward  politics,"  I  says,  begin 
ning  to  get  on  to  de  game. 

"Very  well,"  he  says.  "Seeing  dat  we 
15  225 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

knows  how  to  put  up  our  fists,  King  Ed 
ward  and  King  William  bote  gets  a  move 
on.  King  Edward  moves  foist:  he  passes 
us  out  a  monopoly  in  cigarettes  and  under 
ground  railways. " 

"Good  woik!"  I  says. 

'  *  Fine  woik, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  Den  King 
William  says  to  his  High  Lord  Jollier,  '  Get 
busy,7  he  says,  'or  I  '11  chop  your  head  off. 
How,'  he  says,  'shall  I  give  de  double-cross 
to  Uncle  Ned?'  meaning  King  Edward. 

"  'Send  America  a  Prince,  your  Maj 
esty,'  says  de  High  Lord  Jollier,  who  is  no 
farmer.  'But,'  says  Willie,  'me  uncle  has 
give  'em  a  monopoly.' 

"  'Your  Gracious  Majesty,'  says  de  Jol 
lier,  'Americans  is  a  proud  and  haughty 
race,  who  is  high-steppers  when  it  comes  to 
independence.  What  cares  dey  for  monopo 
lies?  Dat  is  a  mere  bauble,  dross  and  van 
ity.  What  deir  stern  souls  loves  is  a  live 
Prince.  De  livelier  de  better.' 

"  'In  dat  case,'  says  de  King,  'I  '11  send 
Henry.' 

226 


EXCISE  AND   POLITICS 

"  'Send  Henry/  says  de  Jollier,  'and  de 
game  is  a  cinch.  Give  'em  a  royal  Prince, 
and  den  call  on  'em  for  deir  lives,  liberties, 
and  pursuit  of  happiness,  and  dey  is  yours 
to  command.' 

"'I  '11  do  it,'  says  de  King,  'and  den 
I  '11  make  anodder  face  at  England.' 

''So  you  see,  Chames,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
"dat  de  lamentations  of  Hortense  is  de 
woids  of  foolishness.  De  die  is  cast ;  we  has 
set  our  hands  to  de  plow,  de  sword  is  drawn, 
and  de  Committee  of  One  Hundred  is  deep 
in  de  study  of  court  etiquette,  bills  of  fare, 
wine  lists,  and  time-tables.  De  flanneled 
fools  is  smashing  de  wickets  of  vanity;  de 
muddied  oafs  is  kicking  de  foot-ball  of  rage 
and  despair;  but  little  Willie  is  keeping  a 
dozen  typewriters  busy  accepting  invita 
tions  for  Brodder  Henry  to  visit  de  princi 
pal  cities  of  dis  country  and  Oshkosh. 

"I  only  regrets  dat  I  did  not  go  long  on 
a  few  tousand  barrels  of  sauerkraut. 

' '  Convey, ' '  he  says—' '  convey  to  Hortense 
my  vive  sympaihie  republicaine." 
227 


XVII 
A  CHEISTMAS  PLAY 


Who  '11  do  ine  part  ] "  I  says. 


XVII 
A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

EVEN   before   I   has   fully   recovered," 
says  Mr.  Paul,  "from  de  weariness  of 
spirit  produced,"  he  says,  "by  de  Horse 
Show  boxes,  I  has  to  contemplate  de  equal 
vanity  of  Christmas  boxes." 

"Nonsense!"  says  Miss  Fannie. 

"Woise  dan  nonsense,"  says  Mr.  Paul; 
"it  's  unjustable  extravagance,"  he  says. 
' '  I  finds  in  one  stocking  a  match-box  I  don 't 
want,  and  in  de  odder  a  cigarette-box  I  has 
no  use  for.  Derein,"  he  says,  "dey  is  like 
de  Horse  Show  boxes;  except,"  he  says, 
"dey  is  more  costly;  for  I  sends  up  peens 
of  praise  if  I  lands  de  gift  of  a  ten-dollar 
match-box  at  a  cost  of  less  dan  a  tousand." 

"You  should  let  your  frens  know,"  says 
Miss  Fannie,  "what  you  do  need  and  do 
want." 

231 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"What  I  needs/'  says  Mr.  Paul,  "I  man 
ages  by  de  excise  of  trift  to  get  for  meself ; 
but  what  I  wants  I  can't  get,  and  de  owner 
never  gives  me." 

"It  sounds  like  a  riddle,"  says  Miss  Fan 
nie.  "What  's  de  answer!"  she  says. 

"I  '11  tell  de  answer,"  says  Whiskers. 
' '  Paul  must  be  Sandy  Glaus  dis  year.  I  'm 
to  act  in  de  play." 

"Let  Burton  be  Sandy  Glaus,"  says  Mr. 
Paul.  "Burton  has  a  bunch  of  chestnuts 
what  would  trun  de  children  into  blue  fits 
of  laughs,"  he  says. 

"Don't  be  steerical,  Paul,"  says  Mr.  Bur 
ton—and  on  de  level  Mr.  Burton  is  just  as 
comic  as  a  letter-box.  "I  acts  in  de  play, 
too;  so  Sandy  is  up  to  you." 

Mr.  Paul  says  he  would  take  up  de  poor 
man's  boiden,  and  lie  began  getting  as  next 
as  two  shingles  on  a  roof — bote  on  de  Sandy 
Glaus  and  de  stoige-manager  games.  He 
had  a  mug  from  a  real  teeater  fix  de  hair, 
eyebrows,  whiskers,  and  nose  of  Sandy  so 
dey  would  all  come  off  in  a  pull;  and  he 
232 


A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

was  dead  keen  on  all  de  lay-out  of  de  stoige, 
in  de  music-room. 

Duchess  says  dere  was  some  nonsense  up, 
for  Mr.  Paul  never  took  such  interest  in 
anyting  for  a  proper  poipose.  I  could  n't 
see  any  fly  racket  in  de  game,  but  Duchess 
was  not  born  in  Hoboken,  nor  yesterday; 
so  I  just  sawed  wood  like  dere  was  netting 
doing.  Dere  was  plenty  of  wood  for  a  saw 
mill. 

De  play  was  called  "Above  and  Below 
Stairs. ' '  Ever  see  it  f  No  ?  You  was  born 
lucky!  It  's  a  English  play,  and  as  funny 
as  a  sore  tumb.  Whiskers  picked  it  out  be 
cause  dere  is  a  part  for  him  where  he  gets 
gay  wit  Wily  Widdy.  Two  of  de  parts  dey 
could  n't  get  nobody  to  play,  de  Loidy's 
Maid  and  Valet,  'cause  dey  was  songs  wit- 
out  words— and  no  singing.  Notting  to  do 
but  get  discovered  behind  a  screen. 

One  of  dese  days  a  fly  mug  will  write  a 
play  where  somebody  is  discovered  in  front 
of  a  screen,  instead  of  behind,  and  he   '11 
pay  de  national  debt  wit  his  winnings. 
233 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

Well,  Miss  Fannie  tells  me  and  Duchess 
to  play  dose  parts,  and  den  Mr.  Paul  he  got 
busier  dan  a  copper  wit  a  Reformer  on  his 
track.  He  fussed  and  fussed  at  rehoisals 
till  he  fixed  to  suit  himself  just  de  place  and 
time  me  and  Duchess  was  to  go  on.  All  de 
while  Duchess  was  piping  him  off  like  she 
was  saying,  "Nous  verrons!"  Dat  's 
French  for  "mind  your  eye." 

Listen :  I  tink  I  '11  take  a  day  off  and  write 
a  play  meself.  It  's  only  one  kind  of  lying 
—and  all  kinds  is  easy.  All  dat  was  doing 
in  our  play  was  a  Duke— Whiskers— a  Coi- 
nel—'M.T.  Burton— and  a  Countess— Wily 
Widdy— and  bote  gents  wanted  her  for  deir 
steady.  See?  Each  gent  puts  up  de  same 
job  on  de  odder,  to  get  him  copped  kissing 
de  Maid  behind  de  screen;  but  each  gives 
de  odder  de  double-cross  by  tipping  de 
Valet  to  take  his  place  behind  de  screen. 
Countess  gets  on  to  part  of  de  plot,  tinks 
Duke  is  to  be  behind  de  screen,  so  Countess 
tries  to  take  Maid's  place.  Bote  gents  gets 
on  to  dat  twist,  and  dey  tries  to  get  behind 
234 


A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

de  screen,  so  de  whole  push  spars  for  open 
ings  till  de  screen  is  toppled.  All  dis  is  at 
a  bal  mask-ay,  so  nobody  don't  know  who  's 
who,  till  Valet  and  Maid  is  discovered  kiss 
ing  each  odder  when  de  screen  is  trim  down. 
Den  Countess  sends  Coinel  on  his  way,  to 
dance  jigs  to  mile-stones,  and  declares  her 
self  de  Duke's  steady.  See? 

"Where  is  de  fun?"  says  Duchess.  "If 
it  was  a  French  play  Countess  would  be 
behind  de  screen,  tinking  de  Duke  was  dere, 
and  be  discovered  kissing  de  Valet;  or  de 
Coinel  would  try  to  kiss  de  Maid,  and  find 
he  was  kissing  Countess;  or  M'sieu  le 
Due  would  link  he  was  kissing  Countess, 
and  really  be  kissing  de  Maid;  or—" 

"On  your  way!"  I  says.  "To  de  stee 
ples  wit  you!"  I  says.  "Does  n't  nobody 
never  kiss  de  proper  party  in  France?"  I 
says. 

"  Of  a  soitainty, ' '  she  says.    '  <  Sometimes 

—by  mistake.     But  never  in  plays,  'cause 

de  play-writer  has  de  fun  all  in  his  own 

hands.     Surely,  de  English  is  one  idiot," 

235 


CHIMMIB   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

she  says,  ' '  to  take  de  trouble  to  write  a  play 
and  make  it  as  stupid  as  real  life.  What 
is  it,"  she  says,  "for  a  maid  to  kiss  a  valet? 
Mon  Dieit!  does  one  go  to  de  play  to  see 
such  a  ting?  One  might  save  de  cost  of 
tickets,  stop  to  home,  and  take  a  peep  below 
stairs,  if  one  has  no  soul  above  de  affair 
of  a  maid  and  a  valet.  Bah ! ' '  she  says. 

Say,  forn  folks  is  queer.     What? 

Every  time  we  rehoised  de  play  Mr.  Paul 
made  me  and  Duchess  to  in  our  backs  to  de 
audience  when  de  screen  tumbled. 

' '  What  for  ? ' '  says  Miss  Fannie.  ' '  If  dey 
toins  deir  backs  de  audience  won't  know 
who  is  discovered." 

"For  sure  dey  will,"  he  says.  "Dere 
will  be  a  call  before  de  coitain,  and  de  audi 
ence  will  see  de  players  witout  deir  masks 
on." 

"It  is  a  new  kind  of  play,"  says  Miss 
Fannie,  "to  hold  back  de  danyrnong  till 
after  de  fall  of  de  coitain.  But  I  spose  you 
has  good  reasons,  Paul,"  she  says. 

"De  best  ever,"  he  says. 
236 


A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

Well,  on  Christmas  all  de  swell  kids  about 
our  place  cbmes  to  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  tree 
party,  and  deir  pas  and  mas,  and  big  brod- 
ders  and  sisters,  chases  along  wit  de  kids, 
and  dere  was  joy  for  fair. 

Wait  a  minute :  I  'm  tinking  if  it  was  n  't 
for  de  kiddies  we  'd  all  give  Christmas  de 
long  farewell,  and  send  Sandy  Claus  to  de 
tall  timber.  It  would  be,  "On  your  way, 
Sandy!"  for  sure,  if  we  did  n't  tink  de  lit 
tle  ones  \vould  miss  him. 

I  'm  not  whistling  tru  me  side  combs 
when  I  tell  you  dat.  I  Ve  seen  Christmas 
trees  of  all  sorts.  I  've  seen  'em  in  little 
tenement  rooms  where  de  fadders  and  mod- 
ders  go  shy  of  enough  to  eat,  so  as  to  squeak 
out  a  few  dimes  for  a  twig  of  a  tree  and 
some  candy  and  toys  for  de  kids.  Dey 
looks  as  happy  as  de  kids  when  dey  passes 
out  de  presents;  and  like  as  not  forgets  dey 
is  hungry— seeing  de  little  one's  eyes  spar 
kle  at  de  tings  Sandy  has  fetched.  I  've 
seen  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  tree,  where  de 
kids  dat  trot  in  her  class  get  de  pick  of  de 
237 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

toy-shops,  wit  a  few  tings  from  de  jeweler's 
chipped  in  for  sweeteners. 

De  game  's  de  same  at  bote  ends  of  de 
line.  It  's  de  joy  of  de  little  ones— in  par 
lor  or  tenement— dat  makes  de  old  folks 
forget  dey  has  had  too  much  to  eat— or  not 
enough ! 

Mr.  Paul  was  n't  funny— he  did  n't  try 
to  be — when  he  passes  out  de  presents 
to  de  youngsters.  He  made  'em  tink 
he  was  de  real  Sandy;  and  he  says  quiet 
little  tings  to  'em,  like  he  can,  what  made 
some  of  de  old  folks  misty  about  de  eye 
glasses. 

When  dat  was  over,  de  grown-ups  chases 
into  de  music-room,  where  de  stoige  was, 
and  de  play  was  started.  Tings  went  to 
beat  a  French  shuffer  on  a  steam  racing 
bubble;  Miss  Fannie  back  of  de  stoige  on 
one  side,  Mr.  Paul,  in  his  Sandy  make-up, 
on  de  odder.  Just  before  it  was  time  for 
me  and  Duchess  to  go  on,  tru  a  door  de 
audience  could  n't  see,  and  take  our  places 
back  of  de  screen,  I  heard  Duchess  give  a 
238 


A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

little    squeal,    and    fall    like    she    'd    been 
knocked  out. 

"What  is  de  matter!"  says  Miss  Fannie. 
I  heard  her  across  de  stoige. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  says  Duchess,  "I  has  broke 
me  ankle.  I  cannot  stand." 

"What  sl^all  we  do?"  cries  Miss  Fannie, 
near  trunning  a  fit  wit  noivousness. 

"Madam  must  be  so  obliging  as  to  take 
me  place,"  moans  Duchess. 

"Very  well,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  and  she 
takes  de  pink  domino  and  mask  off  Duch 
ess,  and  puts  'em  on  herself. 

Just  den  Mr.  Paul  whispers  in  me  ear: 
"Chames,  de  butler  has  taken  too  much  egg- 
nog.  You  must  hurry  and  get  him  out  of 
de  way." 

"I  will,"  I  says,  "when  T  has  done  me 
toin  in  de  play." 

"At  once!"  he  whispers. 
"Who  '11  do  me  part!"  I  says. 
"I  will,"  he  says.     He  drops  de  Sandy 
make-up,  yanks  me  pink  nighty  off,  gets 
into  it,  slaps  on  me  mask,  and  scoots. 
239 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

I  chases  to  find  Perkins,  de  butler— and 
stumbles  on  him  piping  de  show  tru  a  crack 
in  de  door,  sober  as  a  bull  pup!  I  chases 
back  to  de  stoige,  just  as  Mr.  Paul  slides 
up  to  Miss  Fannie,  behind  de  screen. 

Well,  when  de  screen  fell  dey  toins  deir 
backs  to  de  audience,  and  Mr.  £aul  lifts  his 
mask  just  as  Miss  Fannie  lifts  hers.  Hon 
est,  she  was  struck  paralyzed  when  she  seen 
who  it  was.  He  was  n't.  He  bends  over 
her,  and  gives  her  a  kiss  square  as  ever  one 
was  give.  I  let  down  de  coitain. 

Mr.  Paul  makes  one  jump  to  where  I  was, 
and  hustles  me  into  de  domino;  Duchess 
jumps  to  Miss  Fannie,  and  takes  her  dom 
ino,  and  gets  into  it  in  one,  two,  tree  motions. 

De  audience  was  calling  for  de  players, 
and  we  goes  out;  me  and  Duchess  behind 
de  swells,  of  course;  Duchess  limping  like 
she  had  bote  feet  sawed  off. 

On  de  level,  tings  had  happened  so  quick 
not  a  soul  but  de  four  of  us  tumbled  dat 
we  had  done  a  lightning-change  act. 

Miss  Fannie  comes  to  me  wit  her  face 
240 


A   CHRISTMAS   PLAY 

red  as  fire,  and  she  says,  "Chames,  why 
did  you  not  go  on!" 

"I  had  a  stoige  fright,  Miss  Fannie,"  I 
says,  "and  I  could  n't  have  moved  if  a 
battle-ship  had  butted  me." 

"It  is  very,  very  strange,"  she  says,  look 
ing  from  me  to  Mr.  Paul,  "dat  you  and 
Hortense  was  bote  disabled  at  de  last  sec 
ond." 

"Do  not  blame  'em,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"Chames  and  Hortense  were  but  de  lowly 
instruments,"  he  says,  "whereby  Provi 
dence  sometimes  grants  even  de  least  de- 
soiving  what  he  don't  need,  but  what  he 
wants  most  uncommon." 

She  give  him  a  look  I  could  n't  explain  to 
you  if  I  tried  a  tousand  years,  and  left,  wit 
her  eyes  shiny  wit  tears— of  rage,  I  sppse. 

Oat  night  Duchess  was  doing  fancy  steps, 
and  I  says  to  her,  * '  Me  dear, ' '  I  says,  ' '  your 
ankle  got  well  very  suddent.  What  cured 
it!"  I  says. 

"I  bandaged  it  wit  dis,"  she  says,  and 
she  flashed  a  crisp,  long  green  ten  at  me. 


241 


XVIII 
THE   STATUS   OF   WOMAN 


'And  deman  she  makes  dat  home  for  sits  dere  all  night,  gambling  I1 


XVIII 
THE   STATUS   OF   WOMAN 

'  OOSTON,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "has  a  school 
|j  what  is  teaching  woman  mining  en 
gineering,  architecture,  shoemaking,  and 
foot-ball.  De  happy  day  is  not  far  dis 
tance,"  he  says,  "when  man  will  come  into 
his  rights;  and,  securely  intrenched  on  de 
domestic  fireplace,  will,"  he  says,  "trun 
lovely  woman  out  of  de  management  of 
home  and  baby,  into  de  cold,  cold  woild." 

"Dat  is  nonsense,"  says  Miss  Fannie. 

"Dat  is,  Paul,"  says  Whiskers. 

Mr.  Burton,  Miss  Fannie 's  husband, 
was  n't  dere. 

"Why,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "why  dis  frost? 
Logic  is  not  nonsense.  Is  de  woild,"  he 
says,  "to  go  witout  homes,  or  de  home  wit- 
out  housekeeping?  Is  de  cradle  to  be  left 
unrocked,  stockings  undarned?  Is  white 
245 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

goods  no  more  to  be  made  up  into  essen 
tial  garments  for  de  Little  Miss  Fannies? 
Is  burglars  to  remain  unsought  for  under 
beds?  Perish,"  he  says,  "de  taut!" 

"Sure  not!"  says  Whiskers. 

"Den,"  says  Mr.  Paul— "den  de  star  of 
man's  emancipation  is  rising,"  he  says, 
"like  a  pan  of  bread.  If  dese  tings  must 
be  done,  it  follows  dat  somebody  must  do 
'em.  Dey  refuse  to  do  demselves.  If  dey 
would,  a  Tessley,  or  a  Maccaroni,  would 
long  ago  found  a  wireless  wife  to  do  'em. 
Man,"  he  says,  "having  tasted  de  sweets 
of  his  altars  and  his  fires,  will  fight  before 
he  lets  'em  go  out.  But,  sir,  why  fight? 
If  lovely  woman,  free,  white,  and  sweet  six 
teen,  tackles  de  job  of  making  shoes,  voting, 
and  foot-ball,  man  will  carry  on  de  altar 
and  de  fire  at  de  old  stand.  He  will  re 
fuse  to  again  dwell  in  a  cave,  like  a  Indian 
untaxed. ' ' 

"But,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "we  women 
is  n't  going  to  desert  home  and  baby  for  de 
field  of  politics  or  foot-ball." 
246 


THE   STATUS   OF  WOMAN 

'  *  I  fear, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul,  '  *  you  is  no  bet 
ter  dan  a  poor  weak  vessel ;  a  willing  slave 
of  shellfish  man,  wit  a  soul  degraded  to  de 
trifles  of  housekeeping  and  domestic  econ 


omies.' 


" Trifles !"  Miss  Fannie  says.  "I  'd  not 
like  you  to  see  de  kind  of  housekeeping 
done  by  women  who  tinks  'em  trifles." 

"You  alarm  me!"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I 
hoped  dat  when  woman  had  her  rights,  and 
left  de  home  soicle  to  square  de  woild  into 
one  community  of  interest,  we  men  would 
fall  into  de  soft  snap  of  taking  care  of  de 
potted  plants  and  parrots." 

"Paul  has  you  dere,"  says  Whiskers. 
"What  has  woman  to  do  dat  is  not  trifles!" 

"Foist,"  she  says,  "I  tink  de  division 
of  labor  between  man  and  woman  as  society 
has  arranged  it  is  de  best  achievement  of 
society.  What  I  mean,"  she  says,  getting 
a  little  red,  'cause  Whiskers  and  Mr.  Paul 
was  listening  so  hard— "what  I  mean  is  dat 
dere  seems  to  be  two,  big,  natural  divisions 
of  labor :  dat  which  provides  de  means  for 
247 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

home-making,  dat  which  uses  dose  means 
for  de  poipose  dey  is  provided.  If  it  was  n  't 
a  divine  plan  which  gave  one  portion  of 
labor  and  responsibility  to  man,  de  odder 
to  women,  den  de  plan  which  did  make  dat 
division  is  de  best  piece  of  woik  human  in 
telligence  can  be  credited  wit.  I  mean  dat 
if  dere  was  not  just  such  a  plan  we  would 
have  to  invent  it,  for  witout  it  de  home 
would  not  exist." 

"Brava,     me     dear!"     says     Whiskers. 
'You  has  your  f adder's  aptitude  for  put 
ting  tings  clear.     Of  course,"  he  says,  "I 
was  joking  when  I  spoke  of  woman's  woik 
as  trifles." 

"Dey  is  trifles  light  and  airy,"  says  Mr. 
Paul. 

"I  'd  just  like  to  see  a  man  try  to  do 
'em,"  says  Miss  Fannie.  "I  do  not  under 
stand,"  she  says,  "what  women  can  mean 
who  say  dat  de  care  of  a  home  and  chil 
dren  does  n't  give  'em  scope  for  deir  energy 
and  brains.  A  woman  who  has  a  dozen  soi- 
vants,  or  none,  is  busy  more  hours  a  day— 
248 


THE   STATUS   OF  WOMAN 

and  wit  her  brains,  too— dan  any  man  is, 
if  she  makes  one  home  comfortable.  Even 
a  woman 's  social  duties  is  done  to  keep  up 
a  social  soicle  for  her  men's  enjoyment,  as 
part  of  de  home  life— just  as  much  as  see 
ing  dat  meals  is  well  cooked  and  soived,  her 
house  clean  and  sweet,  her  gowns  attractive, 
her  children  well  mannered.  None  of  de 
woik  is  trifling;  it  's  hard,  brainy  woik,  and 
it  makes— de  home!" 

Miss  Fannie  stopped  and  laughed;  for 
mostly  she  don't  make  no  long  talks,  and 
was  kinder  noivous.  I  had  to  chew  me  cheek 
to  keep  from  yelling,  "You  're  de  limit, 
Miss  Fannie!" 

Whiskers  motions  me  to  fill  his  glass— 
dis  was  at  dinner— and  he  says,  "Paul, 
dere  's  some  trut  in  what  Fannie  says." 

"Some,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "But  de  loidy 
does  not  ^ell  why  dere  is  so  many  women 
what  wants  to  run  primaries,  and  instruct 
in  de  philosophy  of  Spinoza." 

"I   can   tell   you   dat   very   easy,"   she 
says,  shaking  a  finger  at  Mr.  Paul.    "You 
249 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   ME.  PAUL 

men  is  responsible  for  de  whole  bunch  of 
trouble. " 

I  don't  always  remember  just  de  lang- 
wudge  dey  uses,  but  I  gets  de  sense. 

"Meaning  me?"  asks  Mr.  Paul,  looking 
scared. 

"Meaning  man,"  says  Miss  Fannie.  "A 
lot  of  fool  writers  of  de  eighteent  century 
taut  it  smart  to  tell  women  dey  lacked  sym- 
paty  wit  de  higher  life.  De  man  what  wrote, 
'  Patience  is  de  virtue  of  women  and  asses, ' 
done  more  to  make  strong-minded  women 
dan  any  woman's  rights  woman  ever  done. 
A  lot  of  sillies  told  women  dey  was  looked 
down  on  'cause  dey  did  n  't  tink  and  act  like 
men.  Well,  women  want  to  be  popular  wit 
men. ' ' 

' '  If  dat  's  deir  only  want, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul, 
* '  I  should  say  it  was  radder  well  supplied. ' ' 

"Don't  interrupt,"  says  Miss  Fannie. 
"I  '11  have  me  say  out  on  dis  subject  now, 
if  I  die  for  it.  De  real  reason  any  woman 
wants  to  be  what  she  calls  emancipated  is 
because  her  great-grandmodder 's  feelings 
250 


THE   STATUS   OF   WOMAN 

was  hoit  by  somebody  passing  her  out  a 
bad  joke  on  her  commonplace  aspirations. 
Just  as  soon  as  dey  finds  out  dat  man  se 
lects  for  his  mate  a  natural  partner— one 
who  will  attend  to  her  part  of  de  firm's 
woik— de  emancipationists  will  go  out  of 
business.  I  do  not  agree  wit  you  dat  dere 
is  many  of  'em — but  dey  is  so  noisy!" 

'  *  Good  goi  1 ! "  says  Whiskers.  ' '  Chames, ' ' 
he  says,  "Paul's  glass  is  empty." 

"Woise,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  looking  like  a 
tree-time  loser,  "me  heart  is  empty— of 
hope.  I  had  hopes  of  one  day  settling  down 
wit  netting  to  do  but  give  me  valet  plenty 
of  plain  sewing,  and  scold  de  iceman.  But, ' ' 
he  says,  "I  find  I  is  condemned  to  man's 
strenuous  life  for  life.  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt 
mentioned  me  glass,  Chames." 

I  was  neglecting  me  business,  trying  to 
get  a  neck  holt  on  his  dude  woids. 

"Den  I  understands,  Mrs.  Burton,"  he 

says,  when  he  'd  made  a  hole  in  de  glass, 

"dat  you  is  to  bring  Little  Miss  Fannie  up 

wit  no  views  on  Carlyle,  ignorant  of  re- 

251 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

ciporal  tariffs,  into  a  career  of  idleness  and 
five-o 'clocks!" 

"Little  Miss  Fannie,"  she  says,  "will  be 
learned  enough  about  books  to  entertain 
herself  wit  'em  in  any  leisure  she  's  lucky 
enough  to  get  when  she  's  head  of  a  house 
hold.  But  she  will  be  learned  to  be  de  head 
of  a  household.  It  is  strange  dat  some  men 
who  enjoy  homes  tink  dose  homes  is  run 
by  force  of  soicumstances,  when  de  fact  is 
de  women  who  run  'em  right  has  studied 
to  prepare  herself  as  hard  as  a  man  must 
to  be  a  lawyer.  A  woman  who  is  n't  satis 
fied—proud—of  such  woik  is  weak  or— 
wicked. ' ' 

' '  S-sh ! ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  Dey  claims  all 
de  strengt  and  most  of  de  virtue  dat  was 
passed  out  to  de  sex." 

"  Is  n  't  deir  strong  point  denying  sex  dis 
tinction  ?"  says  Whiskers. 

"No,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Dey  insists  dat 
de  distinction  remains.  'Female'  is  a  lively 
woid  wit  'em. ' ' 

' '  Truly, ' '  Miss  Fannie  says.  * '  Dey  is  all 
252 


THE   STATUS   OF  WOMAN 

'females,'  poor  tings;  but  I  has  me  doubts 
dat  dey  is  womanly.  Man  still  insists  upon 
having  a  'woman'  for  his  mate.  When  de 
emancipationists  discovers  de  difference  dey 
will  agree  dat  if  God  did  n't  intend  'em  for 
de  place  dey  has  in  de  social  system,  it 
was  mighty  lucky  for  'em  dat  man  did  so 
intend.  But,"  she  says,  "not  anodder  woid 
on  de  subject.  I  '11  have  coffee  soived  in 
de  music-room,  and  play  you  some  Rubin 
stein.  You  may  smoke  dere." 

I  don't  just  cop  who  Rubinstein  is.  I 
knowed  one  geezer  of  dat  name  what  used 
to  live  in  de  Sixt  District,  but  I  don't  link 
he  wrote  pieces  for  de  piany.  He  made  po 
litical  speeches  in  Yiddish,  down  in  Poverty 
Hollow,  before  de  new  bridge  cleaned  it  out, 
and  nailed  a  job,  inspector  of  street  clean 
ing.  But  de  Reformers  give  him  a  hurry 
bounce  'cause  he  made  de  street-sweepers 
pungle  a  rake-off  on  deir  wages.  Whoever 
de  mug  was  dat  Miss  Fannie  played,  he  was 
a  lulu  for  fair.  De  gents,  sitting  dere  wit 
deir  coffee  and  cigars— only  de  firelight  on 
253 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

Miss  Fannie— made  her  play  till  I  guess  she 
must  went  tru  Ruby's  whole  bunch  of  tunes. 

Say,  Mr.  Paul  is  a  queer  bloke,  after  all. 
When  I  let  him  out  of  de  house  he  says, 
"Want  a  walk,  Chames?" 

'  *  Sure,  sir, ' '  I  says. 

"Get  de  bull-dog,"  he  says,  "and  call  to 
my  place  for  me." 

I  sheds  me  buttons,  puts  on  a  sweater  and 
jacket,  gets  de  dog  out  of  de  stable,  calls  for 
Mr.  Paul,  and  we  was  off. 

We  pikes  out  Broadway,  and  we  pikes 
and  pikes  and  pikes.  Never  a  woid  says 
Mr.  Paul,  never  a  woid  says  I,  never  a  woid 
says  de  dog.  Walk?  Listen:  I  ain't  string 
ing  you  a  little  bit;  we  never  stops  going 
out  till  we  struck  de  Harlem  River.  Dat  's 
right.  Nobody  says  never  a  woid,  but  den 
we  toins  back.  We  must  gone  ten  or  twelve 
miles  before  anybody  spoke,  den  it  was 
only  de  dog.  He  asks  me,  "What  's  do 
ing?"  and  I  says  I  don't  know,  and  we 
pikes  along. 

Say,  I  likes  de  Lane  any  hour  of  de  twen- 
254 


THE  STATUS  OF  WOMAN' 

ty-four,  but  if  it  's  a  case  of  long  tramp,  wit 
a  gent  dat  has  n't  a  woid  to  say,  give  me 
B.y.  late  at  night.  Company?  No.  Go 
alone  radder  dan  wid  a  gabby  mug  dat  takes 
your  mind  off  de  sights  wit  a  fairy  tale  of 
what  a  winner  he  is,  or  passes  you  out  his 
dinky  hard-luck  stories  when  you  can  see 
de  limit — hard  and  good  luck — acted  all 
around  you  better  dan  on  top  of  any  stoige 
dat  ever  had  a  trap.  Dat  's  de  Lane  at 
night.  Mr.  Paul  never  saw  'em  dat  night: 
he  saw  netting.  I  did.  I  seen  panhandlers, 
pickpockets,  rough-house  rats,  sandbaggers 
-I  know  de  signs  of  'em  all.  When  we  was 
up  in  de  darker  end  of  town  now  and  den 
a  gang  would  pipe  us  off,  guessing  what 
kind  of  a  game  we  'd  make.  But  we  was 
never  up  against  it.  Mr.  Paul  lias  a  pair 
of  shoulders  of  his  own,  T  'm  no  airy,  fairy 
Lizzy,  and  de  bull-dog  was  walking  on  de 
edge  of  his  foot  like  he  'd  die  wit  joy  if 
any  old  kind  of  a  fight  came  his  way.  So 
dey  give  us  de  go-by.  But  all  of  it  was  n't 
tough.  Where  de  Lane  is  lined  wit  teeaters 
255 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

and  restaurants  de  game  was  open— even 
if  it  was  n't  always  fair.  De  gangs  dere 
was  n't  looking  for  a  chance  to  crack  a  coco 
for  de  price  of  a  supper.  Dey  was  all  hunt 
ing  supper,  just  as  hard:  suppers  wit  boid 
and  bottles.  De  loidies  helping  de  gents 
find  supper  tables  looked  like  dey  taut  de 
setting  moon  was  de  rising  sun.  Dey  must 
drink  growlers  of  black  coffee  to  be  so  wide 
awake  so  late  at  night — if  dey  has  to  git  up 
at  five  in  de  morning  to  shake  down  de  fur 
nace  and  put  on  coal.  Maybe  dey  does  n't 
have  to. 

Honest,  Mr.  Paul  never  said  a  woid  de 
whole  way— only  once,  and  den  he  did  n't 
speak  to  me.  It  was  near  daylight,  we  was 
on  de  Avenoo  again,  and  near  home,  when 
Mr.  Paul  says,  like  he  was  linking  out  loud, 
"And  de  man  she  makes  dat  home  for  sits 
in  dere  all  night,  gambling!" 

Where  was  dat?  you  say.  Oh,  up  de  Ave 
noo  a  little  way.  Come  to  tink  of  it,  it  was 
just  in  front  of  Mr.  Burton's  club. 


25G 


XVIII 
A   FAMILY   SKELETON 


IT 


XIX 
A  FAMILY   SKELETON 


,  Paul,"  says  Mr.  Burton,  "me 
and  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  is  going  Sout 
to  play  golf.  Come  along  wit  us,"  he  says. 
<  'No,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "I  prefers  to  stay 
Nort.  I  used,"  he  says,  "to  look  wit  de 
eye  of  disfavor  upon  our  Nordern  winter; 
but  now,"  he  says,  "I  hails  it  wit  joy,  be 
cause  it  stops  golf-playing  in  dese  parts. 
If  golf  was  n't  stopped  here  in  de  winter, 
I  should  join  Lieutenant  Peary  in  his  poi- 
sonally  conducted  Arkic  excursion.  For," 
says  he,  "Peary,  besides  de  happiness  of 
being  outside  de  golf  zone,  has  all  de  com 
forts  of  home,  and  de  excitement  of  a  grand 
stand  rescue  just  when  him  and  his  brave 
followers  would  perish  from  high  living 
and  lack  of  excise,  if  de  rescuers  was  n't 
always  strictly  on  time." 
259 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Suit  yourself,"  says  Mr.  Burtoii. 
' '  Dere  's  a  stateroom  in  our  car  if  you  wants 
it.  It  bores  me  to  deat  to  hang  around  New 
York  all  winter,"  he  says. 

1  heard  Miss  Fannie  tell  Wily  Widdy  dat 
de  reason  she  was  n't  going  was  because 
Little  Miss  Fannie  had  begun  school.  De 
Little  One  wrote  a  piece  about  de  "Hum 
ming  Bird,"  and  she  spelled  it  "Huming 
Brad,"  so  Miss  Fannie  says  it  would  be  a 
pity  to  drag  her  from  de  fountain-pen  of 
learning,  just  when  she  was  getting  a  stran 
gle  holt  on  de  fount.  Dose  was  n't  quite 
Miss  Fannie 's  woids,  but  her  meaning. 

Duchess  laughs  when  I  told  her.  ' '  What  's 
de  answer!"  I  says,  when  she  gives  me  de 
ha-ha. 

' '  De  answer  is, ' '  says  Duchess,  * '  dat  Miss 
Fannie  is  n't  going,  'cause  M'sieu  Burton 
did  n't  ask  her.  Miss  Fannie  already  told 
me  to  get  her  ready  to  go,  so  I  knows  she 
taut  she  was  going.  But  she  get— what  you 
say?— she  get  left." 

' '  On  your  way ! "  I  says,  'cause  dat  makes 
260 


A  FAMILY   SKELETON 

me  croisy.     "Miss   Fannie  has  what  she 
wants. ' ' 

"She  may  have  what  she  want,"  says 
Duchess,  "but  not  what  she  expect.  I  did 
not  say  she  want  to  go  wit  M'sieu,  but  dat 
she  expect.''1 

"Be  seated!"  I  says.  "What  's  de  dif 
ference!"  I  says.  Duchess  only  hands  me 
out  de  shoulder  shrug,  and  says  dat  if  I 
did  n't  know  I  could  n't  understand. 

Is  n't  dat  like  a  woman!  And  tink  of 
de  noive  of  Duchess  trying  to  learn  me  de 
meaning  of  langwudge!  Me!  Why,  woids 
is  me  strong  holt.  I  knowed  I  was  right, 
but  I  says  to  Mr.  Paul,  after  giving  him 
liis  boxing  excise,  "Is  n't  'want'  and  'ex 
pect'  de  same  ting?"  I  says. 

He  taut  awhile,  den  he  says,  "It  depends, 
Chames,"  he  says,  "wedder  it  is  a  condi 
tion  or  a  teeory  dat  affronts  us.  For  in 
stance,"  he  says:  "being  toisty,  I  want,  let 
us  say,  a  small  bottle.  I  touch  dis  bell ;  me 
Oriental  and  solemn  young  valet  appears; 
I  orders  him  to  fetch  de  bottle ;  he  bows  like 
261 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

a  ambassador,  and,  you  see,  de  bottle  ar 
rives  according  to  me  wants.  But, ' '  he  says, 
"if  I  should  laugh  heartily  at  one  of  Mr. 
Van  Courtlandt's  jokes  I  should  expect  a 
small  bottle,  and  get  it,  dough  I  might  not 
want  it.  Do  you  follow!" 

"Like  a  mice,"  I  says,  taking  de  pint 
from  de  Chap  and  pulling  de  plug. 

"But  I  regret,  Chames,"  he  says,  when 
I  'd  filled  de  hole  in  his  glass,  "dat  you  has 
begun  to  take  notice  of  de  meaning  of  woids. 
Don't.  I  has  observed  your  langwudge  wit 
much  pleasure  and  some  profit.  Your  lang 
wudge,  ' '  he  says,  ' '  is  notable  for  dat  it  ex 
presses  your  meaning,  a  quality  lacking  in 
de  langwudge  of  most  people,  and  special 
of  dose  dat  uses  de  most  of  it.  I  has  seen," 
he  says,  "sober  and  honest  citizens  take  up 
de  study  of  woids,  and  become  so  woozy 
dey  is  finally  unable  to  express  anyting 
more  involved  dan  a  package  of  candy ;  and 
is  reduced  to  de  single  amusement  of  writ 
ing  pieces  to  de  poipers  about  woids  and 

deir  uses." 

262 


A   FAMILY   SKELETON 

Say,  is  he  a  woid  wonder?  What?  I 
puts  a  fresh  collar  on  his  schooner,  and  he 
sails  on. 

"Tell  me,  Chames,"  he  says,  "what  was 
in  your  mind  about  'expect'  and  'want,' 
when  you  lighted  de  fuse  of  me  bomb- 
assity?" 

So  I  tells  him  what  Duchess  told  me  about 
Miss  Fannie  getting  left  for  de  trip  Sout 
wit  Mr.  Burton.  He  got  red,  drinks  up  very 
slow,  and  den  says:  "I  am  glad  you  come 
to  me  about  dis,  for  it  must  not  be  discussed 
outside  de  family  soicle.  Hortense,"  he 
says,  meaning  Duchess,  "  is  a  young  woman 
of  many  inventions,  and  I  want  you, 
Chames,  to  say  to  her  dat  if  she  tells  any 
one  else  about  dis  trip  Sout,  what  she  has 
said  to  you,  I  shall  have  a  heart-to-heart 
talk  wit  her,  in  her  own  langwudge,  dat  will 
make  her  sit  up." 

He  can  do  it,  too.  Once  he  give  Duchess 
a  game  of  French  talk  dat  made  her  so  good 
she  forgot  to  touch  me  for  me  tips  for  two 
days. 

263 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

"Duchess  don't  gab  about  our  folks  to 
nobody  but  me,"  I  says.  "Anyway,"  I 
says,  for  I  had  to  stand  by  Duchess,  "dere 
was  netting  wrong  wit  de  talk,  was  dere  f ' ' 

"No,"  he  says,  "but  warn  Hortense,  all 
de  same.  An  ounce  of  apples  is  wort  a 
pound  of  cores,"  he  says. 

When  I  tells  dis  to  Duchess  she  near  trun 
a  fit,  and  calls  me  tings  in  French  dat  was 
lulus,  I  guess;  but,  being  forn,  dey  never 
touched  me. 

"What  's  doing?"  I  says  to  her. 
"What  's  de  rough  house  about f  Mr.  Paul 
got  red,  you  gets  white,  and  I  spose  it  's  up 
to  me  to  get  blue.  What  for  ? "  I  says. 

Duchess  kicked  a  hole  in  de  carpet  wit 
her  heels,  den  she  says,  "Mon  ami,  is  you 
stupid,  or  is  you  sly?  One  would  die  wit 
shame,"  she  says,  "if  one  taut  she  had  mar 
ried  so  stupid  a  man  as  you  pretend  to  be. 
Don't  you  know,"  she  says,  "dat  Mr.  P>ur- 
ton  is  neglecting  Miss  Fannie,  and  dat  she 
is  trying  to  hide  it  from  de  woild?  Don't 
you  know  dat  Mr.  Paul  is  in  love  wit  Miss 
264 


A  FAMILY   SKELETON 

Fannie,  and  he  's  trying  to  hide  dat  from 
de  woild— yes,  and  from  her,  too?" 

Did  I  know  it!  Does  anyting  ever  hap 
pen  dat  is  n't  for  Miss  Fannie 's  good,  and 
me  not  know  it?  Say,  I  was  n't  brought 
up  in  gentlefolks'  ways,  and  have  no  right 
to  feelings  above  de  way  I  was  brought  up, 
but  I  wish  I  could  take  all  de  jolts  going, 
wedder  meant  for  me  or  not,  radder  dan 
have  one  of  'em  strike  Miss  Fannie.  I  'd 
let  de  ambulance  surgeon  saw  off  me  arm, 
and  make  no  holler  about  it,  to  save  her 
eyes  from  a  single  weep. 

Yes,  I  knows  all  dat  Duchess  says,  and 
knowed  it  before  she  did.  But  all  de  time 
I  tries  to  jolly  meself  wit  de  notion  dat  it 
was  n't  so;  played  stupid,  so  no  one  could 
get  from  me  dat  it  was  so— always  hoping 
it  was  n't.  But  hearing  Duchess  say  dose 
woids,  dat  Mr.  Burton  was  neglecting  Miss 
Fannie,  made  me  feel— wait,  did  you  ever 
see  a  man  hanged  ?  I  did  once,  in  de  Tombs, 
when  dey  used  to  drop  'em  dere.  He 
would  n't  believe  he  was  up  against  it  for 
265 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

fair  till  he  seen  de  rope  just  over  his  head. 
He  knowed  it  den,  suddent  and  hard,  and 
—well,  dat  's  de  way  I  felt  when  Duchess 
says  dose  woids.  But  I  ain't  handy  at  tell 
ing  such  tings. 

Well,  Mr.  Burton  being  away  so  much 
dese  days  witout  taking  me,  I  acts  as  sec 
ond  man,  and  helps  de  butler  at  dinner. 
Dat  evening  Mr.  Paul  was  to  dinner,  and  so 
was  Wily  Widdy.  Mr.  Burton  was  dere, 
too,  for  a  wonder,  and  he  says  to  Widdy 
dat  Mr.  Paul  was  a  lazy  chap,  'cause  he 
would  n't  go  Sout  to  play  golf. 

"Not  lazy,"  says  Widdy.  "Good-na 
tured." 

"How  's  dat?"  says  Burton,  like  he 
did  n't  care  wedder  she  told  him  or  not. 

"Because,"  says  Widdy,  "wit  you  and 
Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  away,  if  Mr.  Paul  went, 
too,  Fannie  and  me  would  have  no  best 
young  man  to  take  off  our  cloaks  at  de 
opray.  Dat  's  why  he  's  not  going." 

I  happens  to  be  looking  at  Miss  Fannie 
just  den,  dough  I  was  passing  someting  to 
266 


A  FAMILY   SKELETON 

Mr.  Paul.  I  seen  her  give  Mr.  Paul  a  look 
about  de  tousandt  part  of  a  second,  and  I 
felt  his  hand  start,  but  he  says  in  de  laziest 
voice  he  has,  "I  must  let  your  odder  best 
young  man  do  opray-box  duty,"  he  says. 
"I  am  going  Sout  wid  Burton." 

Widely  looks  sharp  at  Miss  Fannie,  and 
at  Mr.  Paul,  but  dey  bote  had  smood  fronts. 

*  *  Good  chap, Paul, ' '  says  Burton.  ' '  When 
did  you  change  your  mind!" 

1  'I  always  meant  to  go,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"But,"  he  says,  "I  've  been  trying  for  a 
long  time  to  display  me  wit  over  de  annual 
Arkic  picnic,  and  press-agent  rescue,  of 
Lieutenant  Peary,"  he  says,  "and  your  in 
vitation  give  me  a  chance  for  me  witticism. 
I  am  dying  to  play  golf  in  de  sunny 
Sout." 

When  I  tells  Duchess  about  dat  she  says : 
"M'sieu  Paul  is  a  gentleman.  I  wish,"  she 
says,  "dat  M'sieu  Burton  would  fall  into 
a  golf  hole  and  break  his  neck." 

"He  'd  break  a  record,  sure,  if  he  did 
dat,"  I  says.     "But  I   '11  take  de  job  of 
267 


CHIMMIE    FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

breaking  his  neck  if  Miss  Fannie  would  give 
me  de  tip." 

"Dat  is  n't  de  way  wit  women  like  her," 
says  Duchess.  "Dey  suffer,  and  say  not- 
ting,  if  dey  is  only  sure  nobody  knows  dey 
is  suffering.  It  is  de  women  dat  wants  de 
woild  to  know  dey  is  suffering  dat  wants  de 
man's  neck  broke." 

"What  man?"  I  says. 

"De  man,"  says  Duchess.  "Dere  is  al 
ways  a  man." 

As  soon  as  all  de  gents  was  gone  Sout, 
Widdy  finishes  her  town  errants  in  hurry- 
call  time,  and  was  off  to  de  woods.  Duch 
ess  says  dat  Widdy  cares  less  for  Wagner 
dan  Webberfield  when  dere  's  no  man  to 
go  to  de  opray  wit  her. 

Mr.  Burton  did  n't  take  me  along  be 
cause  Duchess  is— but  not  a  woid! 

De  next  day  Miss  Fannie  says,"  Chames, ' ' 
she  says,  "how  is  dat  poor  woman  getting 
along  what  we  visited  Tanksgiving  day!" 

"To  de  limit,"  I  says.  "Wit  de  tings 
you  send,  and  de  five-spot  wafer  I  gives  her 
268 


A  FAMILY   SKELETON 

each  week  for  Mr.  Paul,  she  is  getting  fat 
enough  to  kill,"  I  says. 

She  says  we  'd  go  and  see  her;  so  I  gets 
on  de  box  wid  coachy,  and  we  drives  Miss 
Fannie  down  to  de  poor  widdy  I  was  telling 
you  of  what  sells  poipers  at  de  Bridge. 
Mrs.  Murphy  was  dere,  and  de  five  kids, 
and  tings  was  as  comfortable  as  a  pup  in 
a  basket.  De  widdy  begins  tanking  Miss 
Fannie,  "and  your  kind  husband  for  de 
five  dollars  a  week  he  sends  by  Chimmie, ' ' 
she  says. 

"Dat  is  not  sent  by  me  husband/'  says 
Miss  Fannie. 

"Saints  save  us!"  says  de  widdy,  not 
catching  de  wink  I  gives  her.  "Chimmie 
said  it  was  from  de  gentleman  what  was 
here  wid  you.  I  taut  it  was  your  good 
man,"  she  says,  "so  I  teached  de  children 
to  pray  for  him  every  night." 

Murphy  seen  dat  it  was  up  to  somebody 

to    say   someting   quick,    so    she   chips   in. 

"Sure,"  she  says,  "lave  de  childher  pray 

for  him.    He  needs  prayers  said  for  him  all 

2G9 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

de  more  for  not  being  Miss  Fannie 's  hus 
band,  poor  man, ' '  she  says. 

When  we  was  home  Miss  Fannie  says  to 
me,  "Mrs.  Murphy  is  a  droll  character." 

"Dull?"  I  says,  not  understanding. 

"Not  at  all  dull,"  she  says.     "Droll." 

I  don't  just  cop  dat  woid,  but  I  copped 
dat  Miss  Fannie  was  n't  sore  on  Murphy. 


270 


XX 

AT   THE   OPERA 


XX 

AT   THE   OPERA 

GIVING  Mr.  Paul  his  boxing  excise  de 
odder  day,  lie  says  to  me,  "Chames," 
he  says,  "I  has  just  read,  in  a  great  novel 
called  'On  Your  Way/  dat  de  best  cure  for 
a  strong  toist  is  to  get  a  rap  on  your  coco. ' ' 

*  *  Not  me, ' '  I  says ;  "  a  punch  on  de  conk 
gives  me  a  toist. " 

"Dat  being  de  case,"  he  says,  "we  will 
put  on  smaller  gloves,  and  lay  love-taps 
aside  for  a  round  or  two." 

My,  my!  for  de  next  tree  rounds  I  had 
de  hustle  of  me  life.  Mr.  Paul  is  n't  quite 
so  smart  as  me  getting  in  and  away,  and 
side-stepping,  but  he  can  hit  harder,  and 
dat  makes  an  even  match  of  it.  Say,  some- 
ting  was  doing  for  fair ;  when  we  quits  dere 
was  a  little  washing  up  to  do,  and  we  used 
up  a  bit  of  court-plaster  after  dat. 
18  273 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

I  was  wondering  what  was  boddering  Mr. 
Paul.  Of  course  I  likes  a  friendly  scrap 
whenever  one  comes  me  way,  but  he  only 
calls  for  de  small  gloves  when  someting  is 
on  his  mind  dat  scratches. 

I  tells  Duchess  about  it,  and  she  says, 
"De  American  gentleman  is  bizarre,"  she 
says. 

"Dey  arre,"  says  I.  "You  ought  to 
know;  you  landed  one." 

"C'est  vrai,"  she  says.  "But  I  speak 
of  de  odder  kind,  not  de  Bowery  gent.  If 
someting  have  distress  de  American  gentle 
man  he  want  de  fight— what  you  say?— 
le  boxe.  Wit  de  gentleman  of  France 
it  is  not  so.  If  his  heart  is  trouble  he 
write  poetry,  or  drink  absence.  Why 
not?" 

i  i  Search  me, ' '  I  says.  *  *  I  don 't  know  de 
answer.  What  's  de  best  way  to  catch  a 
squirrel  ? ' ' 

"Search  me,"  says  she. 

"Climb  a  tree,  and  make  a  noise  like  a 
nut,"  I  says. 

274 


AT   THE   OPERA 

' '  Dat  is  of  a  nonsense !  I  knows  de  trou 
ble  wit  M'sieu  Paul,"  says  she. 

"Give  it  a  name,"  says  I. 

"It  is  love,"  she  says. 

"He  must  have  it  hard,"  I  says,  feeling 
of  me  eye. 

"It  is  a  grand  passion,"  says  Duchess, 
looking  a  tousand  miles  over  me  head. 

"It  's  out  of  sight,"  I  says.  "If  Mr. 
Paul  has  it  for  keeps,  I  '11  go  into  training, 
so  dat  I  can  give  him  all  de  sympaty  he 
wants. ' ' 

"Sympaty  is  not  de  cure,"  she  says. 
"Let  me  put  some  hot  water  on  your  eye. 
Did  he  give  you  a  tip!" 

"He  did,"  I  says.  "He  give  me  a  cou 
ple  of  seats  for  de  opray. ' ' 

"Quel  regal!"  says  Duchess.  "It  is 
'Faust/  I  '11  keep  your  eye  in  hot  water 
all  day,  so  dat  you  shall  not  look  of  such 
drollness." 

Say,  we  went,  all  right.     Did  you  ever 
see  dat  opray?    It  's  de  finest  play  I  ever 
see  out  on  top  de  stoige,  and  has  songs  in  it, 
275 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

too.  It  makes  "Florrie  Dorrie"  look  like 
bad  money.  It  was  wrote  by  a  f  ren  of  Duch 
ess.  He  knows  his  business.  Let  me  tell 
you  foist  about  how  we  broke  into  de  opray 
teeater. 

I  puts  on  me  best  harness— de  dress  close 
Mr.  Paul  give  me— and  Duchess!  say,  Miss 
Fannie  must  give  her  a  trunk  key  and  told 
her  to  help  herself.  From  her  waistband 
down  she  was  a  dream,  a  peach !  Above 
dat— well,  in  de  street  it  was  all  right,  'cause 
she  wored  a  big  cloak,  and  it  was  warm  in 
de  Opray  House,  so  she  did  n't  take  cold. 
She  took  chances,  dough.  But  no  more  dan 
de  loidies  in  de  boxes.  Some  of  'em  looked 
like  dey  was  playing  peek-a-boo  over  de 
edge  of  a  bat-tub.  Dey  calls  it  full  dress. 
I  calls  dat  getting  gay  wit  de  langwudge, 
if  I  knows  de  meaning  of  ''full." 

Well,  when  we  gets  to  de  teeater  dere  was 
a  million  carriages  on  Broadway  and  bote 
side  streets. 

"I  wish,"  says  Duchess,  "we  could  come 
in  a  carriage.    Me  toilette  deserves  it." 
276 


AT  THE   OPERA 

"Dat  's  easy,"  I  says. 

We  chases  around  to  de  side  street  where 
a  lot  of  coachmen  I  knows  was  unloading 
deir  folks.  I  tips  de  wink  to  one  coachy,  he 
cops  me  game,  we  jumps  in,  and  rides 
around  de  corner  like  we  'd  come  a  mile. 
Tiger  opens  for  us  proper,  I  hands  out 
Duchess,  tiger  and  coachy  salutes  solemn, 
and  we  butts  into  de  push.  Listen:  in  de 
middle  of  de  sidewalk  I  steps  on  de  toes 
of  Kelly,  de  B.y.  cop  I  knows. 

"Make  way!  me  good  man,"  I  says  to 
him.  "You  has  two  left  feet,"  I  says. 
"Make  way!" 

I  don't  link  he  has  caught  up  wit  his 
breat  yet. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  de 
opray.  In  de  foist  act  dere  is  an  old  gazea- 
boo  who  tinks  he  '11  take  a  jump  from  de 
Brooklyn  Bridge  'cause  he  's  getting  too 
old  to  step  lively  when  he  takes  an  L  car. 
He  tinks  again  when  he  hears  some  Easter 
bells,  so  he  sings  a  song. 

Dat  's  de  trouble  wit  opray ;  notting  doing 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

till  somebody  has  a  chance  to  sing  a  song. 
It  's  like  de  smokers  I  goes  to  in  me  pre 
cinct  club.  We  '11  be  all  ready  to  see  a 
pair  of  light-weights  do  a  few  rounds,  when 
de  announcer  says,  "Mr.  Cully  will  oblige 
wit  a  song."  It  's  to  de  bad. 

Well,  a  gang  outside  sings  a  song,  and 
de  gazeaboo  says  he  '11  call  on  his  spirit  and 
see  if  he  can't  change  his  luck.  Dis  brings 
on  a  head-liner  wit  a  name  I  never  could 
tell  you  in  a  tousand  years.  I  can't  get  fur- 
der  wit  it  dan  "Mephis."  Duchess  says 
it  's  a  forn  woid  for  de  devil.  Anyway, 
he  tells  de  gazeaboo  to  cheer  up ;  dat  he  '11 
give  him  de  time  of  his  life  if  he  '11  sign 
to  play  ball  wit  him  whenever  he  's  wanted. 

"In  a  minute!"  says  de  gazeaboo.  Dey 
does  stunts  wit  red  fire;  Mephis  shows  him 
a  picture  of  a  goil  what  will  be  his  steady; 
dey  sings  a  song,  and  Faust— dat  's  de 
gazeaboo — is  changed  to  a  dude  witout 
leaving  de  stoige.  Say,  it  's  great ! 

De  head-liner  goil  is  named  Maggie. 
Not  quite  dat,  but  let  it  go  at  dat.  She 
278 


AT   THE   OPERA 

wears  her  hair  like  de  goil  in  de  song  from 
Hackensack,  but  Faust  is  a  dead  swell  mug 
for  fair.  He  meets  Maggie  on  her  way 
home,  and  gives  her  de  glad  eye.  But  she 
is  a  good  goil,  and  gives  him  de  trim-down. 

"What  's  doing?"  says  Faust  to  Me- 
pliissy.  "Your  red-fire  stunts  is  no  good," 
he  says. 

"You  gets  gay  too  suddent,"  says  Me- 
phissy.  "You  has  been  a  back  number  so 
long  you  is  not  next  to  de  ways  of  fashion 
able  society,"  he  says.  "Dat  was  not  a 
trun-down  for  fair ;  it  was  de  haughty  bluff. 
You  led  hearts  out  of  turn,  and  she  renigged. 
We  '11  pi  ay  diamonds  wit  her  next,  and  see 
does  dat  suit  her  hand,"  says  Mephissy. 

But  before  Mephissy  gets  to  woik  a  cow 
boy,  named  Siebel,  what  has  been  Maggie's 
steady,  fetches  a  bunch  of  flowers  to  Mag 
gie's  back  yard,  and  leaves  'em  dere  for 
her.  He  sings  a  song,  sure. 

Den  Mephissy  comes  in,  pipes  de  flowers 
de  lad  has  left,  and  says,  "Nay,  nay!    Dat 
young  poisson  can't  play  in  dis  back  yard. 
279 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   ME.  PAUL 

Dis  will  make  her  forget  her  Sieby  and  his 
roses,'7  and  he  leaves  a  box  of  diamonds 
dere.  He  was  a  wood-sawyer,  dat  mug. 

Den  Maggie  comes  on.  She  makes  a  bluff 
at  spinning,  but  de  only  yarn  she  spun  was 
a  song  about  Faust.  She  says  he  's  de  slick 
est  young  man  she  ever  see  coming  down  de 
lane.  She  finds  de  flowers,  and  lets  on  she  's 
tickled  to  deat;  but  when  she  cops  de  dia 
monds— dat  's  de  finish  of  de  flowers! 
What? 

Nobody  asks  her  to,  but  she  obliges  wit 
anodder  song  while  she  tries  on  de  spar 
klers;  and  den  Faust  and  Mephissy  breaks 
into  de  game.  Faust  asks  Maggie  what  's 
de  matter  wit  his  being  her  steady.  She 
can't  give  him  a  heart-to-heart  talk  till  Me- 
pliissy  jollies  an  old  lady  out  of  de  way. 
Den,  barring  a  song  or  two,  dey  gets  along 
pretty  well  till  Maggie  tells  him  it  's  time 
for  him  to  chase  himself.  He  chases;  but 
she  forgets  her  manners,  peeps  tru  de  blinds, 
and  fetches  him  back— wit  a  song. 

But  de  next  act  is  a  corker !  Maggie  has 
280 


AT   THE   OPERA 

a  brodder  named  Veil,  who  is  going  off  to 
de  Philippines  to  get  fever  or  promotion. 
Before  he  goes  he  naturally  comes  on  de 
stoige  wit  his  regiment  to  sing  a  song.  Dat 
was  de  boss  song  of  all. 

Well,  Val  was  a  scrapper,  of  course,  and 
seeing  Faust  hanging  around,  he  says  to 
him,  ' ' On  your  way !  Don't  get  gay  around 
dis  corner,"  he  says.  "To  de  woods!" 
Faust  says  he  has  as  much  right  to  travel 
in  dat  ward  as  Val,  and  from  slanging  each 
odder  dey  pulls  deir  swords.  Listen:  Val 
could  done  him.  He  could  got  de  decision 
if  de  scrap  was  on  de  level,  but  it  was  n't. 
Mephissy,  seeing  Faust  up  against  it,  pulls 
his  sword,  too,  and  Val  could  n't  stand  off 
de  community  of  interest. 

It  was  n't  a  square  deal.  I  told  Duchess 
so,  but  she  pinches  me,  and  tells  me  to 
hold  me  tongue,  'causes  Val  was  due  on  a 
song. 

Sure  money !  Val  tells  Maggie  what  he 
tinks  of  her — and  he  trun  her  no  bouquets 
—and  she  waits  for  him  to  sing  his  song, 
281 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

and  falls  on  him  so  lie  could  n't  take  a  en- 
gore.  Coitain. 

Den  Duchess  jaws  me!  "You  has  no 
more  manners,"  she  says,  "dan  de  swells 
in  de  boxes.  If  you  must  talk,"  she  says, 
"hire  a  box." 

De  last  act  is  in  Sing  Sing.  And  dat  's 
no  joke,  too.  Maggie  is  dere,  but  has  lost 
her  good  close,  her  back  comb,  her  mind, 
and  near  everyting  but  her  singing  voice. 
Dat  's  doing  business  at  de  old  stand.  I 
did  n't  hear  what  she  was  jailed  for.  Me- 
pliissy  and  Faust  has  a  pull  wit  de  jailer, 
and  dey  calls  on  Maggie,  to  say  dey  '11  go 
bail  for  her  if  she  '11  go  along  wit  dem. 
She  says  she  'd  radder  stay  where  she  is 
dan  travel  in  such  company.  Dey  says,  * '  So 
long;  but  as  we  is  all  in  jail  togedder,  let 
us,  anyway,  have  a  song  before  we  part." 

Of  course  dey  had  it.  It  was  a  lulu,  too, 
but  I  don't  know  what  it  was  about,  for 
Duchess  was  so  croisy  mad  at  de  folks  put 
ting  on  cloaks  and  rubbers  while  de  song 
was  going  on,  she  would  n't  tell  me  a  woid. 
282 


AT   THE  OPERA 

Say,  she  had  a  right  not  to  rag  me  for 
talking  at  de  opray.  I  never  peeped  but 
once,  and  den  I  whispered. 

I  did  n't  know  why  folks  talks  at  de 
opray,  so  I  asks  Mr.  Paul  about  it. 

"Chames,"  he  says,  "when  de  Carnegie 
Institution  at  Washington  is  open  for  busi 
ness,  I  shall  make  original  research  into  dis 
matter  you  mention.  Andrew  is  a  good  soul 
to  put  up  de  ten  millions  to  let  me  do  it.  I 
shall  devote  de  remaining  days  of  a  melan 
choly  life  to  discover  de  reason  why  folks 
goes  to  de  opray  to  talk." 

"Why  don't  you  ask  some  woman?"  I 
says.  "Dey  does  most  de  talking." 

"I  knows  none  of  dose  women,  but  will 
consent  to  meet  one  for  de  sum  Mr.  Car 
negie  donates.  Den,  by  a  short  soul-to-soul 
chat,  I  hopes  to  explain, ' '  he  says,  ' '  de  phe 


nomenon.  ' 


283 


XXI 

A   DRAMA  AND  A  TRAGEDY 


XXI 

A  DRAMA  AND   A  TRAGEDY 


a  long  time  1  don't  see  you? 
Bat  's  right.  We  has  been  to  de 
country  four  or  five  weeks,  and  I  has  n't 
chased  into  town  much.  De  kind  of  wind 
dat  blows  up  and  down  de  lanes  of  Man 
hattan  is  de  kind  to  blow  hayseed  out  of 
your  whiskers—  even  if  you  has  n't  no  whis 
kers.  Dat  's  what  me  and  Duchess  hikes  in 
for.  '  *  Cheemes,  '  '  she  says,  *  *  now  dat  every  - 
ting  in  de  country  house  is  settled  down, 
and  we  has  our  folks  in  good  order,  let  us," 
she  says,  "take  our  day  off  in  de  city.  I 
has  some  er  rants,  and  one  wishes  to  show 
one's  frens  how  one  looks  in  one's  mourn 
ing." 

When  Duchess  gets  chesty  she  calls  her 
self  "one,"  but  Whiskers  sometimes  calls 
287 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

himself  "we."  I  hear  him  say  de  odder- 
day,  "Paul,"  he  says,  "we  must  see  dat 
Fannie  has  occupation:  riding,  driving, 
walking,"  he  says. 

He  said  "we,"  but  he  meant  himself, 
'cause  it  's  only  him  dat  talks,  reads,  walks, 
drives,  rides  wit  Miss  Fannie.  Pie  's  like  he 
was  her  sweetheart,  instead  of  her  fadder. 
Say,  he  's  a  good  sort,  all  right,  for  fair. 
Mr.  Paul,  dese  days,  kind  of  hangs  around 
till  he  sees  Miss  Fannie  started  out  wit 
Whiskers,  den  he  starts  out  by  himself. 
When  I  rides  behind  Miss  Fannie  I  cops 
Mr.  Paul  not  far  off,  saying  notting. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  our 
foist  day  in  town  for  a  mont.  De  minute 
we  strikes  de  Avenoo  Duchess  wafts  a  one- 
spot  wafer  into  a  flower-shop  to  blow  us  bote 
off  wit  bunches  of  violets  big  as  your  hand. 

"Poiple  is  de  color  of  half -mourning, " 
she  says,  "and  bote  flower  and  color  is  be 
coming  to  me  style  of  beauty." 

"How  about  me?"  I  says.    "Is  dey  be 
coming  to  my  style  and  beauty?" 
288 


A  DRAMA  AND   A  TRAGEDY 

"De  beauty  of  your  style,  mon  ami,"  she 
says,  "is  dat  it  needs  no  odder  ornament 
dan  me.  Au  contraire,  a  woman  wit  a  hand 
some  husband  is  never  beautiful  herself." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  Duchess,"  I  says. 
"You  is  n't  such  a  bad  looker  yourself." 

"Of  a  trut,"  she  says.  "Only  one  of 
a  married  couple  can  be  a  good  looker." 

"Is  it  up  to  me?" 

"You  is  lucky  I  was  not  looking  for 
beauty." 

"What  was  you  rubbering  for,  den!" 

"English,"  she  says.  "When  you  foist 
have  proposed  to  me  I  ask  Miss  Fannie  how 
did  you  speak  de  English;  for  den  I  could 
not  perfect  speak  it  as  now,  nor  de  good 
from  bad  speech  tell.  Miss  Fannie  tell  me 
dat  Mr.  Paul  say  your  English  most  enter 
taining  was.  Voild,  I  consent  to  make  you 
happy,  for  dat  I  wish  to  improve  me  lang- 
wudge. ' ' 

' '  Barring  a  f orn  twist  or  two,  your  lang- 
wudge  is  de  limit,"  I  says. 

"But,"  says  she,  "some  French  frens, 
19  289 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

who  have  learn  English  from  de  books,  say 
I  have  many  woids  dey  have  not.  I  tell 
'em  I  has  copped  de  limit  for  fair,  all  right, 
and  dey  regard  me  wit  de  astonish.  So  I 
say,  '  What  's  doing !  Is  yon  not  next  to  de 
game  f '  I  say,  and  dey  is  more  amaze.  Den 
I  say,  'On  your  way!  To  de  woods  wit 
you ! '  and  one  say  to  me, '  It  is  dat  you  speak 
German,  maybe,  but  not  de  English. '  How 
is  it,  Cheemes?"  she  says. 

"I  '11  put  you  wise,  Duchess,"  I  says. 
"How  would  some  American  loidies  you 
hears  bluffing  at  French  get  on  in  Paris!" 

"Dey  would  go  'way  back  and  sit  down," 
she  says. 

'  *  Sure, ' '  I  says.  '  *  I  has  learned  you  Eng 
lish  as  she  is  spoke  in  Manhattan,  and 
you  '11  never  be  sold  no  gold  bricks.  Your 
frens  could  write  pieces  for  de  poipers, 
maybe,  but  if  dey  asked  deir  way  to  de 
Bridge  tru  de  Bowery,  dey  'd  land  in  de 
Bronx,  or  in  jail." 

Duchess  had  to  go  over  to  de  poor  widdy 
I  pays  five  per  week  to,  for  Mr.  Paul,  to 
290 


A   DKAMA  AND  A  TRAGEDY 

see  about  fixing  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  close 
to  de  widdy's  children.  I  leaves  her  dere, 
singing  French  songs  to  de  kiddies  while 
she  measures  'em,  and  I  waltzes  over  to  de 
Bowery  to  say  '  *  howdy ' '  to  me  fren  de  bar- 
keep.  When  I  butts  into  his  place  it  was 
doing  trade  to  beat  a  bargain-counter,  and 
I  soon  cops  dat  de  head-liners  drawing  de 
crowd  was  a  bunch  of  German  sailors  from 
de  Honezolen. 

Say,  de  Bowery  is  n't  so  woise.  Dere 
was  n't  no  Committee  of  One  Hundred  to 
keep  de  sailors  from  getting  mixed  up  wit 
middle-class  society,  and  common  tax-play 
ers  from  getting  a  peep  at  'em,  but  dey  was 
being  done  fair.  It  was  n't  two  hundred 
and  fifty  per  box,  wit  opray  on  de  side, 
to  get  next:  just  de  price  of  beer,  and  de 
Bowery  Four  Hundred  was  putting  up  de 
price,  and  singing  "Voch  turn  Rhyme"  to 
beat  a  band.  When  I  'd  yelled  "Hock  de 
Geezer"  enough  times  to  show  I  was  wit 
de  jolly,  I  gadders  in  Duchess,  and  we 
chases  to  a  matinee. 

291 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

De  play  was  called  "De  Inspector's 
Bride. "  Not  a  Police  Inspector— higher 
up:  an  Inspector  dat  helps  folks  smuggle 
on  de  steamer  docks.  Dat  's  a  soft  snap. 
De  mug  acting  de  hero  has  a  right  to  stand 
on  de  dock  and  hold  up  folks  coming  back 
from  forn  parts,  and  tell  'em  how  much  dey 
must  tip  him.  Any  one  dat  did  n't  tip 
enough  he  'd  report  to  his  boss,  who  'd  trun 
deir  close  out  on  de  dock,  pour  oil  on  'em, 
den  fine  'em  all  de  boodle  dey  had,  and  send 
'em  to  jail. 

Is  dat  a  lulu  of  a  graft?  What!  It  was 
a  cinch  any  way  it  was  played.  If  you 
did  n't  yield  to  de  Inspector,  den  de  gov 
ernment  would  teach  you  to  be  good  by  mak 
ing  you  yield,  and  take  or  spoil  your  close. 
But  de  Inspector  was  give  de  foist  hack  at 
you,  and  dat  's  what  de  play  was  about. 

Inspector  was  getting  notting  but  ready 
money :  sinking  green  wafers  in  his  jeans 
every  time  a  victim  came  down  de  gang 
plank  at  de  back  of  de  stoige.  Sometimes 
a  silly  would  kick,  or  offer  only  a  shy  wafer 
292 


A  DRAMA  AND  A  TRAGEDY 

to  be  let  tru  witout  getting  de  coal-dust  and 
oil  treatment  for  his  trunks.  Den  Inspec 
tor  would  hand  him  out  a  short  story. 

i  i  What  is  we  coming  to  f ' '  he  says.  * '  Has 
a  office-holder  no  rights  in  dis  country! 
What  do  you  spose  I  'm  holding  down  dis 
job  for  I  For  me  healt  ? "  he  says.  ' '  You  '11 
report  me,  you  say!  Why,  young  felly,  I 
has  a  pull  in  Washington  dat  would  cap 
size  de  White  House.  Xo,  you  can 't  get  me 
broke  for  blackmail.  Yield!"  he  says,  "or 
out  goes  your  close  in  de  ashes, ' '  he  says. 

Say,  we  yells  murder  wit  laughing  when 
de  silly  would  tumble  to  de  cinch,  and  pun- 
gle  de  long,  long  green. 

Well,  near  de  end  of  de  play  along  comes 
a  dead  swell  dame,  and  a  peach  of  a  goil 
who  was  her  daughter.  Dey  had  tons  of 
trunks,  and  Inspector  sees  dat  he  was  up 
against  de  chance  of  his  life.  De  dame  was 
no  farmer  lass,  herself,  and  she  strips  a 
twenty  off  her  wad,  slips  it  to  Inspector 
wit  a  high-toned  wink,  and  tells  him  to 
chalk  her  trunk. 

293 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

He  looks  at  de  double  X  like  he  was  tired, 
and  says,  "What  is  dis  for?" 

"For  yourself."  she  says,  giving  him  de 
knowing  eye. 

"Nay,  nay,  fair  loidy,"  he  says.  "I 
would  not  be  what  your  gold  would  make 
me." 

"Good  heavens!"  she  cries.  "Must  I 
part  wit  me  patrimony  for  protection!" 
and  she  passes  him  over  her  pocket-book, 
her  check-book,  and  a  fountain-pen. 

"Villain!"  she  says,  "do  your  woist! 
write  out  a  check  for  de  balance  at  me  bank 
er's.  But  do  not,  oh,  kind  sir,"  she  says, 
"because  you  has  me  in  your  power,  do  not 
dump  me  wardrobe  on  de  dock,  and  kick  de 
frills  out  of  me  daughter's  frocks  wit  your 
cruel  feet,"  she  says. 

"Proud  loidy,"  he  says,  "I  will  freeze 
to  your  wad  and  your  check-book,  lest  you 
should  buy  a  bale  of  green-goods  wit  'em. 
But  tink  not,"  he  says,  "to  purchase  free 
dom  wit  such  dross." 

"What    more    can    I    do,    hard-hearted 
294 


A   DRAMA  AND   A  TRAGEDY 

man!"  she  says.  "I  lias  netting  else  but 
me  house  on  de  Avenoo,  and  me  cottage  at 
Newport.  Alas!  dey  is  bote  mortgaged  to 
de  limit;  but  take  'em,  mortgage  and  all, 
and  chalk  me  trunks!" 

"Woman!"  he  says,  "I  scorns  your  boo 
dle!  It  is  not  gold  I  seek." 

"You  must  be  new  to  de  business,"  she 
says.  "Pray  tell  me  what  it  is  you  would 
wit  me." 

'  *  I  would  your  daughter  wed, ' '  he  hisses. 

"Reckless  man!"  she  says.  "Her  pin 
money  alone  would  break  a  bank.  No ! " 

"Give  me  your  daughter,"  he  says,  "or 
your  frail  French  frock-frills  fly  to  de  four 
windes  of  heaven.  Den  give  de  government 
your  house  and  cottage,  arid  you— off  to 
de  dungeon!  ha,  ha!"  he  says. 

"Oh,  monster!  will  netting  touch  your 
heart?"  says  she. 

"I  have  sworn  de  pirate's  oat,"  says  he. 

"How  can  you  keep  me  child  in  our  set?" 
she  says. 

"Dear  loidy,"  he  says,  "I  may  be  no 
295 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

steel  magnet,  but  I  has  a  cinch  on  dis 
job." 

"If  dat  is  true/'  says  she,  "take  me 
daughter,  and  spare  me  trunks ! ' ' 

Say,  was  dat  play  a  dream? 

I  was  telling  Mr.  Paul  about  it,  and  he 
says,  "Chames,"  he  says,  "realism  in  de 
drama  can  be  carried  far  too  far.  When 
you  has  been  tru  de  hands  of  a  customs  in 
spector  you  would  no  more  go  to  see  dat 
play  dan  a  boiler-maker  would  go  to  see  a 
modern  comic  opray.  De  bearing  of  dis 
observation  lies  in  de  supplication  of  it," 
he  says. 

"But,  sir,"  I  says,  "de  play  was  n't  real; 
it  was  only  make  believe." 

"You  mistake,  Chames.  De  incident  hap 
pened  only  a  few  years  ago.  Early  dis  sea 
son  I  danced  de  cotillion  wit  de  loidy  what 
married  de  Inspector.  She  is  a  leader  of 
our  hotong,  and  is  now  training  her  hus 
band  for  de  United  States  Senate.  Already 
his  press-agent  has  got  several  of  his  after- 
dinner  speeches  into  de  poipers.  He  is 
296 


A  DRAMA  AND   A   TRAGEDY 

tipped  to  win  by  de  wise,  for  nobody  so  rich 
as  him  is  in  de  race.  De  drama,  Chames, 
should  not  twit  upon  facts." 

Den  Mr.   Paul  loafed  away.     He  don't 
give  me  no  long  games  of  talk  dese  days. 

What  's  dat  you  say— de  mourning-band 
on  me  arm?  Was  n't  I  telling  you  about 
dat  f  Mr.  Burton  died.  Dat  was  before  we 
went  down  to  de  country,  four  or  five  weeks 
ago.  De  doctor  told  noisse,  who  told  house 
keeper,  who  told  Duchess,  who  told  me  what 
happened.  Mr.  Burton  came  home  from  de 
club  early  one  morning  in  his  evening  dress, 
and  left  his  overcoat  open.  He  was  down 
only  tree  days— den  out— and  dat  was  just 
how  long  Miss  Fannie  did  n't  shut  her  eyes. 
Duchess  told  me  so. 

Mr.  Paul  calls  at  de  house  twice  each 
day,  asks  how  was  Mr.  Burton,  but  never 
came  in.  When  it  was  all  over  Mr.  Paul 
takes  a  steamer,  goes  to  London,  stops  dere 
a  week,  gets  cable  from  Whiskers— his  valet 
told  me— comes  back,  and  shows  up  at  de 
country  place. 

297 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

'Whiskers  is  always  saying  to  him,  "We 
must  ride/'  or  "We  must  drive/'  or  we 
must  do  dis  or  dat ;  but  her  f  adder  goes  out 
wit  her,  and  Mr.  Paul  tags  along  witout 
letting  her  know. 

"What  for?"  I  says  to  Duchess. 

"What  for?"  she  says.  "You  is  most 
ignorant.  M'sieu  Paul  was  not  wise,  once 
-he  is  now.  When  Miss  Fannie  begin  to 
take  notice  again  M  'sieu  Paul  intends  to  be 
on  hand.  And  mon  Dieul"  she  says,  "if  it 
was  not  impolite  to  de  memory  of  M'sieu 
Burton,  one  should  say  Miss  Fannie  have 
a  right  to  take  notice  soon.  Comprenez- 
vous?" 

Dat  's  French  for  "See?" 


298 


XXII 
THE   WILY  WIDOW'S  KUSE 


XXII 

THE  WILY  WIDOW'S   RUSE 

IF  ever  I  rigs  up  anodder  job  on  Wily 
Widdy  I   'in  a  muddy  oaf.     She   's  a 
dead-game  sport,  and  lias  two  right  feet. 

Listen:  Since  Mr.  Burton  went  his  way, 
and  dat  's  two  monts  ago,  now,  Widdy 
never  showed  up  around  our  place  till  de 
odder  day.  She  was  down  to  Florida, 
" catching  cold  and  tarpon,"  she  says,  but 
when  she  hikes  Nort  she  goes  to  her  place 
on  de  Sound  near  our  place,  where  we  is 
stopping  at  now.  Well,  one  day  Duchess 
comes  to  me  and  says  I  was  elected  to  take 
de  family  out  walking;  Whiskers  and  Mr. 
Paul  being  too  busy  in  de  billiard-room, 
playing  ping-pong,  and  not  to  be  broke  into. 
So  it  was  up  to  me  to  be  fadder  of  de  regi 
ment. 

301 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

First  rank,  Miss  Fannie  and  Duchess; 
next,  Little  Miss  Fannie  and  governess; 
next,  noissery  maid,  wit  a  bunch  of  extra 
wraps;  last,  me  and  de  bull-dog— him  all 
over  de  lot ;  me,  a  stick  in  me  hand  against 
a  chance  run-in  wit  a  hobo  on  de  road.  We 
pikes  along  solemn  as  a  string  of  board 
ing-school  goils  on  de  Avenoo,  governess 
"s-sh"-ing  de  Little  One  if  she  shied  a 
snowball  at  me,  and  all  as  jolly  as  a  Patress 
Campbell  play.  I  knowed  it  was  no  kind 
of  business  to  be  doing  if  we  was  ever  to 
get  a  laugh  out  of  Miss  Fannie.  I  was  tink- 
ing  of  making  a  running- jump  header  into 
a  snowdrift  by  way  of  a  bit  of  fun,  when 
we  meets  Widdy  in  her  sleigh  bound  for  our 
place.  She  truns  groom  de  reins,  runs  to 
Miss  Fannie,  gives  her  a  kiss,  and  never 
passes  out  a  bunch  of  tears;  but  jabbers, 
jokes,  arid  laughs,  like  she  had  a  muff -full 
of  winning  tickets,  and  knew  her  hat  was 
on  straight.  Governess  was  shocked,  nois- 
sey  scared,  Little  One  puzzled,  but  Duchess 
tosses  me  a  wink  like  she  was  giving  tanks 
302 


THE   WILY   WIDOW'S   RUSE 

dat  we  'd  met  a  honest  Christian  not  tongue- 
tied.  I  wanted  to  yell,  but  only  rolled  Little 
One  in  de  snow  till  she  yelled  wit  laughing. 
My,  my!  but  dat  was  good  to  hear  again. 
I  taut  we  'd  all  forgot  to  remember  how  to 
laugh. 

Bull-dog  and  me  toins  about,  and  marches 
back  home  at  de  head  of  de  regiment.  Whis 
kers  and  Mr.  Paul  was  in  front  of  de  house 
waiting  for  us,  and  her  grandad  shies  a 
snowball  at  Little  One  dat  hits  Widdy. 

"Oh,"  says  Widdy,  "dat  's  a  game  for 
two. ' '  She  fires  back  at  Whiskers,  and  gives 
me  a  quick  whisper,  "Get  busy,  Chames!" 

Dat  was  just  what  she  says,  and  just  all 
she  says,  but  I  tumbled.  For  about  'steen 
minutes  I  was  de  busiest  ting  dat  ever 
buzzed.  I  lands  a  snowball  big  as  a  keg  on 
Whiskers'  coco;  him  and  Mr.  Paul  shoots 
back;  Miss  Fannie  is  hit,  gets  her  spunk 
up  and  waltzes  into  de  scrap ;  I  upsets  nois- 
sey  and  governess  into  a  drift;  de  dog  was 
barking  himself  out  of  his  hide;  Little  One 
was  hollering  her  head  off  wit  joy;  Duch- 
303 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

ess  makes  balls  for  me,  and  I  pelts  all  hands, 
playing  no  favorites;  and  someting  was 
doing  all  over  de  lot  till  nobody  could  n't 
do  no  more  for  laughing. 

When  she  got  de  snow  out  of  her  eyes 
Miss  Fannie  tells  noissey  to  chase  Little 
One  into  de  house  for  dry  close.  Den  she 
peeks  all  around,  and  says,  "I  tink  every 
one  wearing  petticoats  better  do  de  same," 
and  all  de  women  dives  for  de  house. 

I  was  wondering  would  Whiskers  rag  de 
hide  off  me  for  getting  gay  wit  me  betters, 
but  he  gives  me  a  clap  on  de  shoulder,  and 
says:  "Dat  was  well  done,  Chames.  It 
melted  as  much  gloom  as  snow. ' ' 

"Mrs.  Harding  give  me  de  tip,  sir,"  I 
says. 

"She  is  a  loidy  of  sense,"  says  he. 

When  I  was  brooming  de  snow  off  de 
gents  on  de  front  porch  Widdy  sails  down. 

"Tank  you,  Mrs.  Harding,"  says  Whis 
kers  to  her. 

1  i  What  have  you  stupid  men  been  about! ' ' 
she  says.  "I  won't  have  no  gloomy  non- 
304 


THE  WILY  WIDOW'S  RUSE 

sense  here, ' '  she  says.  ' '  If  Fannie  had  been 
on  more  dan  mere  speaking  terms  wit  de 
late  lamented  for  de  past  two  years  it  would 
be  different.  Your  man, ' '  she  says,  looking 
at  me,  "and  his  wife  is  de  only  sensible 
beings  about  de  place.  Dat  's  one  good  re 
sult  of  de  liberties  you  give  'em.  Paul," 
she  says,  "have  you  lost  your  wits?" 

"Lost  everyting,  me  dear  Mrs.  Harding," 
he  says,  "in  admiration  of  your  wits." 

"Dat  's  a  proper  speech,  young  man," 
says  she.  *  *  Now  I  want  some  tea. ' ' 

"Soitainly,"  says  Whiskers.  "Chames, 
order  tea  soived.  You  will  pour  for  us, 
Mrs.  Harding?"  he  says. 

*  *  I  '11  do  no  such  a  ting ! ' '  says  Widdy, 
and  p'chee  she  looked  like  a  little  boss. 
"Fannie  will  pour  for  us  all." 

Dat  trun  a  scare  into  Whiskers.  "I  don't 
like  to  ask  her,"  he  says.  "She  has  not 
been  down  to  tea  wit  us  since— 

"Oh,  I  '11  ask  her,"  says  Widdy,  cutting 
off  his  wire.  "You  and  Paul  is  a  couple  of 
sillies.  It  's  a  good  ting  dat  I  got  here  be- 
20  305 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

fore  Fannie  got  de  notion  into  her  head  dat 
she  really  had  someting  to  mourn  for, ' '  she 
says,  and  waltzes  up-stairs  again. 

Say,  Miss  Fannie  did  pour  tea,  and  tings 
cheered  up  for  fair. 

"I  'm  going  to  ask  meself  to  dinner," 
says  Widdy.  "And  after  dinner  we  is  go 
ing  to  have  some  music.  Mostly  folks  don 't 
have  no  music  in  de  opray  season,  but  we  is 
country  cousins,  and  will  change  de  rule." 

Busy?  Well,  say,  honest,  dere  was  n't 
netting  she  forgot  to  do— except  to  get  gay 
wit  Whiskers,  or  Mr.  Paul.  She  was  just 
plain  busy  all  around,  and  particular  around 
Miss  Fannie.  I  heard  Whiskers  tell  her  she 
was  a  good  sort  for  jollying  de  game. 

' '  Why  should  n  't  we  be  honest  down  here 
where  dere  is  no  one  to  discover  our  hon 
esty?"  she  says  to  him.  "It  would  be  dif 
ferent  in  de  city,  wit  a  lot  of  fool  gossips" 
— dese  is  n't  just  her  woids — "making  a 
bluff  of  being  shocked  at  anyting  doing  ex 
cept  solemn  doings.  Out  here  I  'm  going 
to  tune  tings  up  a  bit,"  she  says. 
30G 


THE  WILY  WIDOW'S  RUSE 

She  's  making  good,  too.  What  I  takes 
me  bonnet  off  to  her  most  for  is  dat  Widdy 
don't  rubber  to  nobody  but  Miss  Fannie. 
She  tells  de  gents  go  dance  jigs  to  mile 
stones  till  she  wants  'em;  and  she  never 
wants  'em  till  she  's  rigged  a  jolly  of  some 
old  kind  for  Miss  Fannie. 

I  says  to  Duchess,  "Widdy,"  I  says,  "is 
to  de  good.  I  stands  back  of  her  corner 
after  dis,  no  matter  what  kind  of  a  ring- 
she  's  boxing  in.  She  's  a  strawberry,"  I 
says. 

"Elle  est  tres-aimable,"  says  Duchess, 
passing  me  out  some  French  woids  dat  mean 
Widdy  was  to  de  good.  "Of  a  soitainty 
she  should  be.  De  game  is  going— what  you 
say?— going  her  way." 

"What  game?"  says  I. 

"Is  dere  more  dan  one  game  of  interest 
to  women?"  says  Duchess. 

"I  'm  innocent,"  says  I.  "De  longer  I 
know  'em  de  less  I  know  'em.  What  's  de 
answer?"  I  says. 

"Of  trut,  it  is  de  game  of  sentiment," 
307 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

says  Duchess.  "Madame  Harding  has 
make  up  her  mind  what  it  is  she  will  try 
to  do,  and  dat  she  can  do  it.  A  woman  is 
agreeable— even  to  odder  women— when  she 
believe  she  is  to  have  what  her  heart  de 
sire.  ' ' 

"If  you  is  a  mind- reader,  me  dear,"  I 
says,  "toin  loose,  and  tell  what  's  doing, 
but  quit  your  riddles." 

"  It  is  of  a  simple, ' '  says  Duchess.  ' '  Ma 
dame  Harding  return  to  find  one  no  longer 
a  wife,  but  a  widdy.  What  now!  'Ah! 'she 
say,  'Miss  Fannie  no  longer  will  object  to 
attentions  her  papa  pay  me— if  I  pay  not 
any  to  M'sieu  Paul.'  So.  Well,  she  make 
herself  of  de  agreeable,  and  de  merry,  for 
dat  Miss  Fannie  will  be  of  de  agreeable  and 
de  merry.  Pour  quoi?" 

"Same  here— for  what!"  says  I. 

"It  is  easy,"  says  Duchess.  "Now  dat 
Miss  Fannie  is  of  liberty  to  take  notice  of 
M'sieu  Paul,  de  sooner  she  do  so  de  sooner 
Madame  Harding  has  a— what  you  say!- 
a  clear  field  wit  M'sieu  Van  Courtlandt." 
308 


THE   WILY    WIDOW'S   RUSE 

' '  To  de  woods ! "  I  says.  ' l  You  talk  woise 
nonsense  dan  a  fortune-teller.  Widdy  is 
jollying  de  game  because  she  is  good  peo 
ple.  Dat  's  all." 

Duchess  gives  me  de  shoulder  shrug,  den 
de  laugh,  and  says,  "Oh,  yes;  to  be  sure; 
but  we  will  have  a  pretty  drama  to  watch, 
no  matter  how  it  end. ' ' 

Dere  is  no  use  for  a  sensible  mug  to  argue 
wit  a  woman  when  she  strikes  her  gait  on 
dat  lane  of  talk,  so  I  chases  over  to  Mr. 
Paul  to  see  does  he  want  a  toin  wit  de  gloves. 

"I  was  just  considering,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
"wedder  I  'd  warm  up  wit  de  gloves,  or 
hire  out  as  a  stoker  on  a  steamer.  We  has 
two  kinds  of  climate  in  dis  delightful  coun 
try—when  you  can't  get  cool,  and  when  you 
can't  get  warm.  If  de  equator  has  not  left 
its  happy  home  for  us,  den  de  nort  pole 
brings  its  knitting  to  our  own  fireside.  In 
summer,  when  de  only  comfort  would  be 
to  take  off  our  flesh  and  sit  in  our  bones, 
we  is  flanneled  like  fools;  in  winter  our  dis 
content  is  made  inglorious  by  living  in 
309 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

houses  which  can  be  warmed  only  by  col 
lecting  de  insurance  on  'em.  De  district 
attorney  of  de  city  and  county  of  New  York 
is  de  only  sensible  gent  I  has  de  honor  of 
knowing :  he  has  kept  himself  in  hot  water 
all  winter." 

"He  is  a  sleut,"  I  says,  "and  a  sleut  is 
a  warm  proposition." 

"I  has  obsoived,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "dat 
de  art  of  sleuting  is  expanding  woise  dan 
our  national  boundaries.  In  de  simple  days 
of  old,"  he  says,  "when  a  gentleman  was 
so  impulsive  as  to  kill  anodder,  Headquar 
ters  piped  in  a  brace  of  fly  cops,  wit  large 
jaws  and  roomy  fists,  but  no  more  foreheads 
dan  was  needed  to  keep  deir  hair  and  eye 
brows  apart,  and  told  'em  to  gadder  in  de 
moiderer.  And  mostly  dey  did.  But  how 
is  it  now,  Chames?" 

"Grand-stand  play,  press-agents,  reputa 
tion—but  no  coon  skins,"  says  I. 

"As  you  remark,  Chames,  in  past  days 
a  man  would  not  brag  about  what  a  great 
coon-hunter  he  was  until  he  had  some  coon 
310 


THE   WILY   WIDOW'S   RUSE 

skins  to  show.  But  coon  skins  is  no  more 
in  fashion.  Let  us  consider  de  case  now 
filling  tree  or  four  pages  of  our  most 
sprightly  poipers. 

"A  man  is  found  who  has  suddenly  ceased 
to  labor  under  de  disadvantage  of  being 
alive.  Upon  de  scene  promptly  appears  two 
patrol  wagons  loaded  wit  ordinary  cops,  led 
by  de  precinct  captain,  sergeant,  and  two 
roundsmen;  sixteen  men  from  Headquar 
ters,  in  command  of  six  detective  sergeants, 
and  two  press-agents ;  de  district  attorney, 
two  deputy  district  attorneys,  seventeen 
assistant  deputy  district  attorneys,  and  five 
county  detectives  from  de  district  attorney's 
staff;  two  coroners,  accompanied  by  law 
yers,  and  attended  by  fighting  clerks,  loaded 
to  de  muzzle ;  seven  hundred  and  fifty  crim 
inal  news  detectives  from  de  daily  poipers 
wit  photographers,  telegraphers,  telephon- 
ers,  scare-head  writers,  copy  readers,  man 
aging  editors,  handwriting  and  blood-stain 
experts,  from  de  same ;  moving-picture  tak 
ers  from  de  principal  vaudeville  teeaters; 
311 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

firemen,  and  boiler  inspectors— de  man  may 
have  been  burned  down  or  blown  up. 

"When  do  convention  came  to  order  de 
chairman  appointed  a  committee  of  criminal 
news  detectives  to  visit  de  houses  of  all  de 
young  loidies  de  dead  man  knew,  and  tell 
deir  parents  deir  daughters  was  no  better 
dan  dey  should  be,  and  obtain  photographs 
of  same.  Ordered  printed.  Headquarters 
sleuts  was  rushed  off  to  locate  de  Sun 
day-school  teachers  of  all  de  young  loidies 
de  dead  man  ever  saw,  get  pictures,  locks 
of  hair,  and  names  of  deir  favorite  ac 
tors.  Ordered  printed  in  colors.  Plain 
cops  was  chased  out  to  arrest  all  young 
loidies  de  dead  man  never  seen,  get  pic 
tures  for  de  press,  give  toid  degree.  Or 
dered  printed.  Two  million  extras,  prov 
ing—wit  pictures— dat  two  hundred  men, 
women,  and  children  was  guilty  of  de  crime 
was  distributed,  and  de  convention  ad 
journed." 

"Who  done  de  moider?"  I  says. 

"It  was  a  case  of  suicide,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
312 


XXIII 
THE  LITTLE  DUKE  ARRIVES 


XXIII 
THE    LITTLE   DUKE  ARRIVES 

MY,  my!  What  do  you  link?  You  'd 
never  guess  it  in  a  tousand  years. 
What?  You  know  from  me  looks?  Dat  's 
what  everybody  says.  You  're  right.  It  's 
a  Little  Duke.  He  's  four  weeks  old  to 
day.  Duchess  and  me  is  to  have  him  chris 
tened  next  week,  and  Miss  Fannie  and  Whis 
kers  is  to  stand  in  his  corner— is  to  be  god- 
modder  and  godfadder  for  him,  I  mean. 
Say,  he  's  a  woild  wonder!  He  's  to  have 
a  name  as  long  as  your  arm,  but  I  calls  him 
Little  Duke,  seeing  as  how  his  modder  is 
Duchess.  Is  n't  dat  right!  What!  My, 
my !  but  we  lias  been  having  de  time  of  our 
life. 

Listen :  when  Little  Miss  Fannie  was  born 
Duchess  bossed  de  head  off  everybody  all 
315 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

over  de  lot,  taking  care  of  her  mistress. 
But  she  did  n't  do  no  more  dan  Miss  Fan 
nie  has  done  since  his  Dukelets  arrived. 
She  could  n't  done  more,  for  Miss  Fannie 
has  been  bossing  tings  like  Duchess  was  her 
sister,  instead  of  her  maid. 

My,  my!  I  don't  know  what  to  tell  you 
about  foist. 

When  de  little  codger  was  a  week  old  I 
was  croisy  for  me  modder  to  have  a  peek  at 
him,  but  I  did  n't  ask,  cause  dey  was  all 
doing  Duchess  and  de  kid  so  fair,  I  taut  it 
was  up  to  me  to  say  notting.  But  Miss  Fan 
nie  tells  me  to  invite  me  modder  up  to  our 
place  on  de  Sound  to  see  her  grandkid.  I 
says  I  taut  I  'd  have  to  take  kiddie  down 
to  me  modder,  for  de  old  loidy  always  gets 
lost  when  she  goes  above  Fourteent  Street; 
dough  she  was  born  on  Manhattan  Island, 
like  me. 

Miss  Fannie  asks  could  n't  dat  "droll 
creature"— dat  's  what  she  calls  Mrs.  Mur 
phy—find  her  way  up  to  de  Sound  and  back. 
' '  Sure, ' '  I  says.  '  *  Mrs.  Murphy  could  find 
316 


THE  LITTLE  DUKE  ARRIVES 

any  way,  so  long  as  it  runs  in  or  out  of 
Manhattan."  So  Miss  Fannie  tells  me  to 
send  for  Murphy  to  bring  me  modder  up 
to  our  place. 

Dat  was  de  day  Miss  Fannie  showed  Lit 
tle  Duke  to  Whiskers  and  Mr.  Paul  in  her 
own  room.  You  should  seen  de  jolly  dey 
makes  of  it.  Foist,  dey  sends  Duchess 
bunches  of  roses  big  as  your  head,  gets 
flowers  for  deir  coats,  puts  on  dicers,  mitts, 
and  toppers,  and  sends  me  wit  deir  cards 
to  Miss  Fannie.  Dey  makes  a  regular  game 
of  it,  like  dey  was  outside  folks  butting  in 
for  a  call.  But  dere  was  no  game  about 
Little  Duke.  Say,  he  fixes  his  two  eyes  on 
Whiskers'  whiskers,  and  blinks  at  'em,  sol 
emn  as  a  judge,  till  de  gents  yells  wit  laugh 
ing,  and  Miss  Fannie  chases  'em  on  deir 
way. 

4 'Bless  my  soul,  Chames,"  says  Whiskers, 
when  we  was  down-stairs,  "dat  's  a  fine 
boy." 

"Red  as  a  rose  is  he,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"De  best  ever,  sir,"  I  says. 
317 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

"He  is!"  says  Whiskers.  "He  arrived 
on  de  scene  just  in  time  to  give  Fannie  a 
great  deal  to  do  and  tink  about, "  he  says. 
' '  We  '11  have  him  educated  and  make  a  gen 
tleman  out  of  him,"  he  says. 

* l  We  ']  1  teach  him  to  box,  row,  play  foot 
ball—make  a  regular  scholar  of  him,"  says 
Mr.  Paul. 

1 1  Tell  Housekeeper, ' '  says  Whiskers,  * '  to 
invite  your  modder  to  dine  wit  her  when 
she  has  seen  Hortense  and  de  baby." 

"And  invite  Mrs.  Murphy,"  says  Mr. 
Paul. 

"Soitainly,"  says  Whiskers. 

' '  Open  a  bottle, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Tell  Housekeeper  to  treat  'em  well," 
says  Whiskers.  "Dis  is  a  happy  event. 
Hortense  has  been  wit  us  since  Fannie  was 
a  school-goil." 

"When  I  give  her  her  foist  bull  pup," 
says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Dat  is  immaterial,"  says  Whiskers. 
"Your  modder,  Chames,"  he  says,  "is  a 
grandparent,  and  grandparents  has  rights. ' ' 
318 


THE   LITTLE   DUKE  ARRIVES 

"Where  would  de  parents  be  witout 
'em?"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Dine  wit  your  modder  yourself, 
Chames,"  says  Whiskers.  "When  you  has 
dined  I  shall  be  glad  to  shake  hands  wit 
your  modder." 

"And  Mrs.  Murphy,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Wit  everybody,"  says  Whiskers.  "I 
am  sure,"  he  says,  "dis  is  a  most  suspicious 
occasion.  I  feel  dat  under  de  soicumstances 
we  should  make  a  gala  day  of  it.  I  has 
not  seen  Fannie  so  happy  in  a  year.  Hor- 
tense  was  most  considerate.  I  feel  grateful 
to  her." 

"I  feel  a  slight  toist,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

Say,  I  was  getting  rattled  wit  all  dis  jolly, 
and  was  glad  to  pipe  de  old  loidy  and  Mur 
phy  coming  up  in  de  station  trap  Coachy 
sent  for  'em.  Modder  just  gives  me  a  kiss 
and  scoots  up-stairs.  But  Murphy!  You 
should  seen  her!  She  was  too  grand  to 
move  fast.  She  had  a  fedder  in  her  bon 
net  a  mile  high,  black  mitts  witout  fingers,  a 
green  shawl,  and  a  poiple  dress.  She  had  a 
319 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

stitch  in  her  side,  and  her  nose  in  de  air; 
and  when  she  'd  give  Housekeeper  a  high- 
arm  hand-shake  she  says,  "Chimmie,"  she 
says,  "would  dis  good  leddy  spare  me  de 
loan  of  a  cup  of  tay?  Me  mout's  full  of 
cindher  wit  traveling  in  me  railroad  coach, 
and  befoore  I  pays  me  reshpects  to  your 
good  wife  I  'd  like  to  putt  me  hat  on 
straight,  and  have  a  tasht  of  tay." 

"Would  n't  beer  suit  you  better?"  I  says. 

* '  'T  is  bad  for  de  complexion, ' '  she  says. 
"But  if  dis  good  leddy,"  nodding  her  fed- 
ders  at  Housekeeper,  "has  no  tay  ready, 
I  '11  take  beer." 

Well,  after  dey  'd  bote  seen  Duchess  and 
Little  Duke,  Housekeeper  asks  'em  to  her 
room  for  dinner. 

"  'T  is  wondherful,"  says  Murphy, "how 
much  de  little  da-arling  looks  like  his  mod- 
dher." 

"Like  his  f adder,  you  mean,"  says  me 
old  loidy. 

"True  for  yez,"  says  Murphy.  "Like 
his  moddher  and  faddher.  I  minds  me  dat 
320 


THE  LITTLE   DUKE   ARRIVES 

whin  me  own  son  Micky  was  de  same  blessed 
age,  he  had  a  cast  in  his  eye  like  his  f  addlier, 
and  de  same  dimple  in  his  chin  I  was  re 
nowned  for  in  dose  days.  Will  yez  make  a 
ca-arpenter  of  him,  like  your  faddher  be- 
foore  yez,  Chimmief" 

"He  's  to  be  a  gentleman,"  I  says. 

"Faith,  how  can  he,"  says  Murphy, 
"when  de  poor  dear  is  half  French? 
'T  will  be  a  mercy  if  he  don't  grow  up  wit 
a  forn  brogue  on  him,  and  take  to  cooking 
tings,  wit  a  white  cap  on  top  of  his  blessed 
head." 

"Have  your  manners  about  you,  Mrs. 
Murphy, ' '  says  me  modder,  getting  her  back 
up.  "Do  you  tink  a  son  of  my  son  would 
wear  a  white  cap,  and  talk  French?  Him 
American  born!" 

*  *  But  above  de  Ha-arlem, ' '  says  Murphy. 
"Get  him,  Chimmie,"  she  says,  "get  him 
on  de  little  old  island  of  Manhattan  befoore 
he  begins  to  take  notice,  and  yez  may  make 
an  American  of  him  yet.  Sorrow  de  day 
I  'd  see  a  gr-randchild  of  me  old  frin  Mrs. 
21  321 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

Fadden  grow  up  a  forner  in  Wistchister 
County." 

"Many  's  de  good  American  born  off 
Manhattan  Island,"  says  me  modder. 

"  T  is  so,"  says  Murphy.  "But  dey 
stays  off  no  longer  dan  dey  can  help.  I 
was  boorn  in  Ireland  meself.  But  dat  's 
different:  Ireland  's  a  training  dishtrict 
for  New  York." 

"Have  done  wit  your  talk,"  I  says,  "and 
eat  your  dinner.  Whiskers  is  coming  in  to 
give  a  toast." 

"A  toast,  is  it  I"  says  Murphy.  "An 
Irish  leddy  can  toast  de  head  off  anny  man, 
be  he  high  or  low.  Mrs.  Fadden,  dearie," 
she  says,  "may  your  can  of  happiness 
always  have  a  low  collar  and  a  high 
waist. ' ' 

Well,  dey  gets  chummy  again,  and  when 
we  'd  put  de  dinner  out  of  business,  Whis 
kers  and  Mr.  Paul  comes  in.  Dey  bote 
passes  out  hand-shakes  to  de  old  goils,  den 
Whiskers  tells  Housekeeper  to  hand  out 
wine,  and  he  'd  say  a  toast. 
322 


THE   LITTLE   DUKE   ARRIVES 

1 '  I  hopes  me  son  knows  his  service, ' '  says 
me  modder  as  Housekeeper  pours  fizz. 

"He  knows  a  number  of  tings/'  says 
Whiskers,  "and  some  is  useful." 

"And  some  ornamental,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"His  faddher  was  de  most  ornamental 
ca-arpenter  dat  ever  carried  a  dinner-pail 
to  a  ship-yard,"  says  Murphy. 

"Well,"  says  Whiskers,  "we  is  concerned 
upon  dis  happy  day  wit  a  younger  gener 
ation,  ' '  he  says.  *  *  I  proposes  healt  and  long 
life  to  young  Master  Fadden." 

"Name!  name!"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"Who  is  to  be  named,"  says  Whiskers, 
"Chames  Napoleon  Emmet." 

' '  Hoorah ! ' '  says  me  modder. 

"  'T  is  a  foine  name,"  says  Murphy. 
"Me  own  grandfaddher— resht  his  sowl!— 
carried  a  pike  wit  Emmet  in  de  blessed  year 
eighteen  hoondhred  and  tree." 

"Well  I  remember  de  day,"  says  Mr. 
Paul. 

"Let  us  drink,"  says  Whiskers. 

De    bunch    of   us    drinks,    but    Murphy 
323 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

chokes.     "What  stuff  is  dis  yez  have  give 
me!    Is  it  a  joke?"  she  says. 

"It  's  champagne,"  I  says.  "Drink 
hearty." 

"It  's  sour  poison,"  she  says.  "I  '11 
dr-rink  beer." 

"Permit  me,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  handing 
her  a  glass  of  beer,  polite  as  if  she  was  a 
dead-swell  dame. 

"  'T  is  foine  manners  yez  have,  sir,"  she 
says  to  him. 

"He  is  much  in  my  company,"  says 
Whiskers. 

"Your  Honor  could  n't  keep  better  com 
pany,"  she  says  to  Whiskers.  "Will  your 
Honor  lave  me  give  you  a  toast?"  she 
says. 

"Charmed,"  says  Whiskers. 

"  'T  is  dis,  den, ' '  she  says : ' i  May  Chames 
Napoleon  Emmet  Fadden  have  a  ha-ard  fist 
for  a-  foe,  and  an  open  hand  for  a  f rin,  and 
never  see  de  day  he  'd  not  want  his  moddher 
to  look  him  clear  in  de  eyes." 

"Hear,  hear!"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
324 


THE  LITTLE   DUKE  ARRIVES 

' '  Chames, ' '  says  Whiskers,  "  it  is  for  you 
to  answer  for  your  foist-born." 

"Loidies  and  gents,  all,"  I  says,  "you 
has  done  me  proud  for  fair.  Duchess  and 
me  has  not  made  up  our  mind  yet, ' '  I  says, 
"wedder  we  '11  make  de  Little  Duke  a  Sen 
ator  or  a  Trust." 

"Bote,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Dey  mixes  as 
natural  as  Scotch  and  soda." 

"But,"  I  says,  "if  his  Uukelets  could 
talk  now,  and  did  n't  tank  you  for  dis  jolly, 
I  'd  showT  him  anodder  use  for  a  slipper 
dan  to  keep  a  foot  warm." 

"  'T  is  de  trut  you  speak, ' '  says  Murphy. 

"Derefore,  loidies  and  gents,  all,"  I  says, 
' '  I  wishes  de  top  of  de  morning  to  you ;  and 
hoping  all  de  enemies  you  has  in  de  woild 
is  in  dis  room  now,  I  remains  yours  truly, 
Chames  Fadden,"  I  says. 

In  de  evening  I  took  me  modder  and  Mur 
phy  to  de  station,  and  den  chases  up  to* 
Duchess  to  tell  her  de  news.  She  was  tickled 
to  deat  when  she  hears  dat  de  gents  was 
going  to  educate  Little  Duke.  "If  we  has 
325 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR,  PAUL 

not  to  spend  for  his  school,"  she  says,  "all 
de  money  I  saves  from  our  wages,  and  de 
tips  I  touches  you  for,  it  will  be  enough  to 
keep  him  from  woik,  and  he  can  be  a  poet, ' ' 
she  says. 

De  long  green  I  earns  for  boxing  wit  Mr. 
Paul  going  to  make  my  kid  a  poet !  Duch 
ess  tinks  she  '11  make  him  a  poet,  because 
he  looks  like  one  now— barring  dat  he  's  a 
bit  shy  on  hair. 


326 


XXIV 
CLASS  DISTINCTIONS 


XXIV 

CLASS    DISTINCTIONS 

IT  seems  to  me, ' '  says  Whiskers,  ' '  dat  de 
district  attoirney  will  soon  find  himself 
in  de  clutches  of  de  law." 

"He  soitainly  will,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
' '  Den  we  '11  see  how  he  likes  de  medicine  he 
hands  out  to  odders." 

"De  idea,"  says  Whiskers,  "of  his  say 
ing  dat  he  'd  enforce  de  law,  even  if  it  pulls 
down  de  administration!" 

"I  never  see  such  a  fellow,"  says  Mr. 
Paul.  "Just  because  he  has  de  law  on  his 
side,  he  tinks  he  's  a  bigger  man  dan  Mr. 
Low." 

"He  's  no  better  dan  an  upstart,"  says 
Whiskers.  *  *  He  has  no  more  respect  for  de 
administration  dan— dan- 

* '  Dan  he  has  for  law-breakers, ' '  chips  in 

Mr.  Paul. 

329 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

* '  I  did  not  mean  exactly  dat, ' '  says  Whis 
kers,  blinking. 

"Neider  did  1,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  only 
said  it." 

"It  is  bad  enough,"  says  Whiskers,  "to 
have  de  city  filled  wit  defiers  of  de  law ;  but 
if  we  is  also  to  have  men  in  office  who  defies 
de  administration,  New  York  will  be  pun 
ished  by  Providence  for  its  wickedness." 

"As  Chaines  would  say:  New  York  is  to 
de  bad.  Anyway, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul,  * '  here  's 
my  steemed  fren,  President  Eliot  of  Har 
vard,  telling  us  dat  New  York  is  de  ugliest 
city  dat  ever  happened.  Yet,  at  de  same 
time,  so  many  people  is  trying  to  butt  into 
New  York  every  day  dat  de  railroads  can't 
handle  'em.  Dat  does  n't  prove  President 
Eliot  wrong— notting  could  do  dat— but  it 
does  prove  dat  Americans  has  give  up  de 
worship  of  de  beautiful  for  de  worship  of 
de  ugly.  Den,  again,  we  is  told  by  a  most 
respectable  autority  dat  dere  is  no  longer 
any  such  ting  as  society  in  New  York,  be 
cause  everybody  lives  so  far  from  his  doc- 
330 


CLASS   DISTINCTIONS 

tor,  and  his  minister,  and  de  ice-man,  dat 
society  is  no  longer  possible.  It  is  a  de 
pressing  subject.  Mrs.  Burton,  will  you 
cheer  me  wit  anodder  cup  of  tea?" 

Miss  Fannie  pours  him  anodder  cup— 
say,  he  's  getting  to  be  a  regular  joss  at  de 
tea  game— and  she  says,  "All  de  same," 
she  says,  ' '  New  York  has  to  give  up  de  hea 
vens  above,  de  eart  beneat,  and  de  tunnels 
under  de  eart,  for  railroads  to  carry  people 
about ;  and  I  fancies  dat  many  of  dose  peo 
ple  has  social  duties  to  call  'em  around." 

"Dose  is  middle-class  people,"  says 
Whiskers.  "Everyting  on  eart  is  done  for 
de  middle  class.  Dey  fills  de  restaurants, 
hotels,  teeaters.  Our  clubs,  even,  is  not 
free  from  'em." 

"Sure,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Even  our 
churches  is  not  safe  from  'em." 

"Quite  right,"  says  Whiskers,  not  see 
ing  de  smile  Mr.  Paul  and  Miss  Fannie  was 
having  at  him.  "De  upper  class  gets  not- 
ting." 

"Netting  on  eart,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "  De 
331 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

middle  class  has  even  run  up  de  price  of 
terrapin,  so  dat  it  is  beyond  de  reach  of  de 
highest  soicles  of  society." 

"We  upper  class,"  says  Whiskers,  "has 
asked  but  one  ting  of  New  York:  to  keep 
tradesmen's  wagons  off  Fift  Avenoo.  But 
what  do  de  arrogant  aldermen  give  us!" 

"De  merry  ha-ha,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
* '  Tradesmen  should  be  kept  not  only  off  de 
Avenoo,  but  off  de  eart." 

"I  will  not  go  wit  you  as  far  as  dat," 
says  Whiskers.  "I  am  a  conservative  man, 
sir.  I  believe  all  classes  has  deir  rights. 
Commercial  and  professional  people  has 
deir  uses.  We  must  not  be  too  hard  upon 
'em.  But  let  'em  not  presume  too  much. 
Witin  a  mont  I  has  attended  sales  of  pic 
tures,  of  Chinese  porcelain,  of  tapestry. 
What  did  I  see?" 

"What,  sir?"  says  Mr.  Paul,  looking  as 
solemn  as  Little  Miss  Fannie  when  she 
studies  her  spelling-book.  "What,  sir?" 

"Why,  sir,"  says  Whiskers,  "I  saw  mid 
dle-class  men  buy  all  de  best  stuff  dat  was 
332 


CLASS   DISTINCTIONS 

offered ;  paying  prices  dat  was  wicked,  and 
keeping  de  few  of  us  upper-class  collectors 
what  was  dere  from  buying  anyting  wort 
carrying  away.  It  is  shameful,  sir." 

"It  is  not  to  be  endured,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"A  man  of  my  modest  income  is  now  no 
better  dan  a  beggar  in  New  York,"  says 
Whiskers.  "A  hundred  tousand  a  year  is 
no  longer  enough  to  maintain  a  gentleman." 

"I  finds  difficulty,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "in 
maintaining  my  dignity  on  half  dat  sum." 

"Our  dignity  is  all  dat  de  middle  class 
has  left  us,"  says  Whiskers. 

"Dey  would  take  dat  from  us,  if  it  was 
for  sale,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "It  is  de  fault 
of  our  system  of  government.  We  lost  a 
grand  chance  when  Prince  Henry  was  here. 
We  should  trim  him  de  offer  of  a  million  a 
year  to  stop  wit  us  and  been  our  king.  Den 
we  would  had  some  decent  laws.  Any  one 
convicted  of  paying  more  dan  twenty-five 
dollars  a  dozen  for  terrapin  should  be 
hanged. ' ' 

"I   fear  you  would   go   too   far,"   says 
333 


OHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

Whiskers.    ' '  Such  extreme  measures  would 
be  open  to  objections." 

"True,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "but  we  could 
hang  de  objectors  also.  De  upper  class  is 
entitled,"  he  says,  "to  some  privileges." 

"I  doubt,"  says  Whiskers,  "if  we  would 
be  allowed  to  enjoy  our  privileges,  even  if 
we  changed  our  form  of  government  to  a 
monarchy.  History  teaches  dat  de  middle 
class— de  bourgeoisie— has  a  habit  of  doing 
a  stunt  of  hanging,  or  beheading,  deir- 
selves. ' ' 

"Alas!"  says  Mr.  Paul;  "alas!  poor 
Charles,  poor  Louis,  sweet  Antoinette,  and 
dear  Lady  Jane!  Dere  is  notting  for  us 
superior  beings  to  do  but  to  learn  to  suffer, 
and  go  witout  terrapin  and  tapestry.  De 
middle  class  runs  our  governments— na 
tional,  State,  and  city.  It  controls  Wall 
Street,  conducts  our  teeaters,  and  most  of 
our  seats  of  learning.  Sir,  if  I  were  a  fad- 
der,  I  should  not  know  where  to  send  my 
son  to  be  educated.  Where  could  de  poor 
dear  child  go  witout  having  to  meet  cubs 
334 


CLASS   DISTINCTIONS 

from  middle-class  homes?  Even  at  Har 
vard  dere  are  sons  of  millionaire  nobodies, 
middle-class  men  of  de  banks,  de  exchanges, 
de  marts,  hiking  to  and  fro,  witout  fear  or 
shame,  taking  honors  in  Greek,  foot-ball, 
French,  and  fencing.  Sir,  my  tears  flow  for 
de  poor  dear  child  who  would  have  to  grow 
up  in  ignorance,  or  else  struggle  tru  life 
enlightened  only  by  such  education  as  I 
could  impart  on  manners,  morals,  and  ping- 
pong." 

"You  are  bote  talking  a  great  deal  of 
nonsense, ' '  says  Miss  Fannie.  ' '  Where  did 
all  dis  talk  of  classes  in  America  start  from? 
And  who  defines  de  classes?  Why  are  we 
not  middle  class?  We  are  not  rich." 

"My  daughter,"  says  Whiskers,  "I  hope 
you  will  not  treat  dis  subject  lightly." 

"Mrs.  Burton,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "you  ask 
if  we  is  not  middle  class,  and  in  de  same 
breat  you  disclose  de  reason  which  makes 
us  upper  class— we  is  not  rich.  Your  fad- 
der  makes  no  secret  dat  his  income  is  but 
one  hundred  tousand  a  year.  Mine  is  but 
335 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

half  dat— if  such  a  foolish  sum  may  be  dig 
nified  by  de  name  of  income.  If  it  was  not 
dat  in  all  odder  respects  we  is  distinguished 
as  upper-class  people,  our  poverty  alone 
would  fix  our  status." 

"Paul,"  she  says,  "you  is  not  serious." 
"I  am  solemn,"  he  says.  "De  middle 
class  has  all  de  money  in  days  like  dese, 
when  every  door  is  barred  wit  gold,  and 
opens  but  to  golden  keys.  Dey  pays  for  a 
horse  what  I  has  to  live  on  a  whole  year. 
Dey  buys  yachts  dat  cost  enough  to  pro 
duce  more  dan  my  income.  Dey  has  made 
de  teeater  and  opray  so  expensive  dat  only 
dey  can  afford  to  see  all  de  best  perform 
ances.  Dey  has  run  up  de  cost  of  living  at 
foist-class  hotels  until,  if  popular-priced 
inns  for  upper-class  folks  is  not  open  soon, 
we  will  have  no  place  to  lay  our  heads, 
when  in  town  for  a  day  or  two,  unless  we 
opens  up  our  town  houses  for  de  poipose. 
Dere  was  a  time  dat  a  poor  upper-class  man 
could  at  least  find  exclusive  and  genial  so 
ciety  in  de  United  States  Senate  at  a  price 
336 


CLASS  DISTINCTIONS 

witin  de  means  of  an  aristocrat's  poise.  Is 
it  so  now?  No.  Like  terrapin,  objects  of 
art,  and  all  odder  necessaries  of  life,  de 
price  of  seats  in  de  Senate  has  been  ad 
vanced  so  much  dat  only  de  middle  class  can 
afford  'em.  What  is  dere  left  for  us  to  do! 
Where  can  we  torn?  Our  exclusive  clubs 
invaded,  our  seaside  cottages  captured, 
our— 

"But  we  have  our  own  homes,"  says 
Miss  Fannie. 

"A  few  of  us,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "But 
how  long  can  we  afford  to  keep  'em?  Even 
now  de  broker  of  a  middle-class  billionaire 
is  demanding  dat  I  put  my  own  price  on 
my  humble  cottage  on  de  Sound. 

"Very  well,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  wit  a 
laugh,  ' '  you  can  get  such  a  price  for  it  dat 
you  will  be  able  to  buy  yachts,  horses,  and 
terrapin,  and  stop  scolding." 

"To  be  sure  1  could,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 

"but  do  you  not  see  dat  den  I  would  lose 

de  right  to  consider  myself  an  upper-class 

swell  ?    Shall  I  sacrifice  de  distinction  ?    No. 

337 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

Den  I  would  be  no  better  dan  a  middle-class 
poisson." 

' i  Paul  is  right,  me  dear, ' '  says  Whiskers. 
"Dere  is  but  one  ting  for  us  to  do.  De 
comforts  and  decencies  of  life  are,  you  may 
say,  now  wholly  monopolized  by  de  middle 
class.  Oh,  de  villain  dat  paid  a  tousand 
dollars  for  dat  lovely  vase  I  bid  nine  hun 
dred  and  ninety  for !  We  can  but  suffer  in 
silence  and  dignity;  but,  as  Paul  says,  pre- 
soive  our  class  distinction.  Aldough  we  has 
but  a  crust  to  eat  and  a  cup  of  water  to 
quench  our  toist,  yet  let  us  not  forget  we 
are  what  mere  gold  cannot  buy.'7 

"Hear,  hear!"  says  Mr.  Paul,  and  he  got 
up  to  go. 

"Come  back  to  dinner,  Paul,"  says  Whis 
kers.  "De  keeper  of  dat  little  island  T 
bought  in  Chesapeake  Bay  has  sent  me  up 
de  finest  lot  of  canvasbacks  1  ever  see.  T 
know  you  is  fond  of  'em." 

"I  likes  'em  better  dan  terrapin,"  says 
Mr.  Paul,  passing  Miss  Fannie  de  ghost  of 
a  wink. 

338 


CLASS   DISTINCTIONS 

"And  me  London  wine  agent  has  just 
sent  me  a  little  more  of  dat  vintage  Bur 
gundy  you  liked  so  much.  We  '11  have  a 
bottle  of  dat/'  says  Whiskers. 

"You  is  very  kind,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 
"Such  a  crust  and  cup  of  water,  underneat 
de  bough  of  your  electric  candelabra,  is 
paradise  enow." 

Well,  when  I  goes  up-stairs  to  tell  Duch 
ess  about  de  talk  and  have  a  bit  of  a  game 
wit  Little  Duke—say,  he  's  getting  so  strong 
now  I  guess  dey  '11  let  me  lift  him  pretty 
soon— she  says  to  me,  "I  do  not  know  about 
de  classes  in  dis  country,  Chames,  but  I 
tink  our  folks  must  be  real  aristocrats." 

' '  Sure, ' '  I  says,  ' '  but  how  do  you  know  ? ' ' 

"Because,"  says  Duchess,  "if  Miss  Fan 
nie  was  not  sure  of  her  place  as  an  aristo 
crat  she  could  not  afford  to  be  like  a  sister 
to  me— her  maid.  She  's  friendlier  to  me 
dan  was  de  paid  noisse  she  has  just  sent 
on  her  wav." 


339 


XXV 

SOME  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS 


XXV 

SOME  SOCIAL   REVOLUTIONS 

SII\,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "a  new  revolution 
stares  us  in  de  face." 

''Bless  my  soul!"  says  Whiskers,  noi- 
vously,  "I  never  see  such  times,"  he  says. 
"Dere  is  revolutions  every  day." 

"De  whole  woild  revolves,"  says  Mr. 
Paul. 

"What  is  it  now?"  says  Whiskers.  "Is 
de  rules  of  ping-pong  changed,  or  is  de  Golf 
Association  going  to  adopt  a  regulation 
ball!" 

"Greater,  even,  dan  such  great  tings," 
says  Mr.  Paul.  "Civilized  man  is  drove  to 
revolt  against  de  Starch  Trust.  De  results 
will  be  so  many  and  expansive,"  he  says, 
' '  dat  de  mental  vision  of  even  de  wisest  can 
not  foresee  all." 

343 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"What  's  up?"  says  Whiskers.  "I  has 
no  stock  in  de  Starch  Trust,  but  I  hope  de 
Attorney-General  has  not  fired  a  bill  of  com 
plaint  against  it.  I  tink  dat  de  Attoiney- 
General  better  stick  to  his  business,  and  not 
be  meddling  wit  lawsuits  in  de  courts.  Ex 
plain  yourself, ' '  he  says. 

"Have  anodder  cup  of  tea,"  says  Miss 

Fannie. 

"Tanks,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  giving  me  his 
cup.  "I  will  explain,  sir,"  he  says.  "De 
biggest  laundry  in  New  York  has  hoisted 
de  price  for  doing  men's  collars  from  twen 
ty-four  to  toity  cents  a  dozen." 

"Police!"  says  Whiskers.  "Has  your 
laundress  struck  for  more  wages,  Fannie!" 
he  says. 

"It  is  not  wages,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "it  is 
starch.  Since  man,  in  a  delirium  of  fatu 
ity  "--you  would  n't  believe  it,  but  dose 
was  de  very  woids  he  used ! — "took  to  wear 
ing  a  double-band  collar,  de  added  use  of 
trust-price  starch  has  caused  de  bulge  in 
laundry  rates.  Be  we  slaves,  or  be  we  free 
men!" 

344 


SOME   SOCIAL   REVOLUTIONS 

' '  But  what  of  de  revolution ! ' '  says  Miss 
Fannie.  * '  Dat  's  what  I  'm  excited  about, ' ' 
she  says,  toining  her  head  so  she  would  n't 
see  Little  Miss  Fannie 's  spoon  in  de  jam, 
what  she  'd  said  de  Little  One  could  n  't  have 
no  more  of. 

"Madam!"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "de  mind  of 
de  philosopher  can  neider  be  rushed  tru  de 
center,  nor  toined  at  de  ends.  It  must  pro 
ceed  in  order  and  in  dignity.  Let  us  con 
sider  man, ' '  he  says. 

' '  Let  us, ' '  says  Wily  Widdy. 

"For  cruel  years,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "man 
has  constricted  his  neck  in  a  single,  and 
lately  in  a  double,  steely-starched  band  of 
linen.  De  laundries  could  n't  stand  for  de 
double  collar  at  de  old  price,  hence,"  he 
says,  "de  hoist  in  rates.  Dat,  loidies  and 
gents,"  he  says,  "was  a  act  of  deep  and 
wide  interest;  de  final  toin  of  de  screw 
which  will  make  man  rebel,  and  free  himself 
from  de  bondage  yoke  of  starch  forever. 
Hurrah ! "  he  says. 

"Is  man  to  go  witout  no  collar,  like  a 
crank  on  de  golf  links?"  says  Whiskers. 
345 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Your  question,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
4  4  brings  me  to  de  very  point  of  me  discourse. 
If,  to  pay  our  laundry  bills,  we  must  give 
up  de  double-shuffle  collar,  sober  reflection 
will  lead  us  to  do  a  better  stunt  still:  we 
will  declare  ourselves  free  from  not  only  de 
double  band,  but  from  any  such  bondage 
whatever.  And,  sir,  lo!  de  male  human 
neck  again  will  know  de  joy  of  lovely 
woolen  collars,  soft  linen,  silk— even  lace!" 

"Bah,"  says  Whiskers.  "How  would  I 
look  wit  a  lace  collar  tangled  in  me  whis 
kers!" 

' <  Dat  is  not  all, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  '  '  Being 
free  men  once  more,  made  bold  by  victory, 
we  shall  also  shed  de  tortoise-like  shield 
which  has  too  long  ex— excor— 

Wait,  I  '11  get  out  dat  woid  if  I  break  a 
toot.  "Which  has  too  long  ex-cor-i-a-ted" 
— whew !— * '  our  unhappy  bosoms,  and  laugh 
de  Starch  Trust  to  scorn." 

"Stop,  stop!"  says  Miss  Fannie.     "If 
you  men  kill  de  starch  business  what  will 
poor  woman  do  about  her  petticoats?" 
346 


SOME   SOCIAL   REVOLUTIONS 

"Do!"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "Retoin  to  de 
limp  simplicity  of  de  Greeks.  Who,"  he 
says,  "can  picture  Hypatia  disturbing  her 
own  lectures  on  Neo-platonics  wit  de  creak 
ing  of  her  starched  petticoats  f  Would  Paris 
have  eloped  wit  Helen  if  he  had  to  check  a 
dozen  trunks  of  her  starched  linen ;  even  if 
he  was  going  to  Troy,  de  home  of  de  laun 
dry?  How  would  Cleopapatric's  robe  of 
clot'  of  gold,  which  me  fren  Plutarch  de 
scribes  in  his  society  notes,  look,  after  it  had 
been  a  few  times  on  de  ironing-board.  Mark 
Antony  would  n't  stand  for  it!" 

"Bravo!"  says  Widdy.  "I  shall  order 
a  tunic  of  poiple  and  fine  linen,  and  practise 
walking  in  scandals." 

What  's  dat?  Sandals?  Yes,  I  guess 
dat  was  de  woid.  But,  my,  my !  tink  of  de 
langwudge  I  has  to  remember! 

"You  has  not  yet  named  de  revolution 
dat  will  do  de  most  for  civilization,"  says 
Miss  Fannie. 

"I  has  only  stopped  for  a  cup  of  tea," 
says  Mr.  Paul.     ' '  Name  yours. ' ' 
347 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

1  i  It  's  dis, ' '  she  says,  passing  him  his  fif t 
cup.  "It  's  de  growing  custom  of  dis  very 
ting— de  five  o'clock  tea," 

"Growing?"  says  Whiskers.  "Why 
growing?  Americans  has  always  had  five 
o'clock  tea." 

"Dat  's  just  like  you  Van  Courtlandts, " 
says  Mrs.  Harding.  "Whatever  you  do, 
you  tiiik  all  America  must  do.  De  five- 
o'clock  is  a  custom  wit  very  few  Ameri 
cans." 

1  i  You  astonishes  me ! ' '  says  Whiskers. 

"Mrs.  Harding  is  right,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
who  had  his  long-talk  stop  pulled  full  out. 
"De  five  o'clock  tea  in  dis  country  has  been 
to  de  bad." 

He  did  n't  say  just  dose  woids,  but  a 
short-arm  reporter  could  n't  cop  all  his 
langwudge.  I  give  most  of  it  to  you  pretty 
straight;  but  if  I  did  n't  renig  sometimes 
I  'd  get  wheels  in  me  coco. 

'  *  Our  national  tardiness, ' '  Mr.  Paul  goes 
on,  "in  respect  to  de  afternoon  tea  habit 
may  express  our  aversion  from  de  whole 
348 


SOME  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS 

subject  of  tea,  born  of  an  early  experience 
which  must  not  be  named  in  dis  blessed  sea 
son  of  international  amity." 

"But,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "de  custom 
has  had  a  great  boom  lately." 

"De  boom  struck  our  agreeable  frens  de 
French  before  it  did  us,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

"It  did,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  wit  a  smile. 
"Dey  invented  for  it  de  winsome  name  of 
le  fiv'oclocque.  I  remember  how  puzzled 
I  was  in  Paris  to  be  asked  to  fiv'ocloquer  a 
quatre  hen  res." 

Say,  get  dose  woids  spelt  de  way  Duch 
ess  wrote  'em  for  me  on  dis  poiper.  Dat  's 
right. 

"I  am  so  glad,"  says  Widdy,  "dat  Paul 
has  come  out  strong  for  temperance." 

"I  was  always  a  temperate  man,"  he 
says.  "So  is  every  man  what  drinks  tea 
in  de  afternoon.  Let  us,"  he  says,  "let  us 
consider  who  it  is  in  our  large  cities  dat  sup 
ports  de  'foist-class'  bar-rooms.  Is  it  not 
de  prosperous  commercial  and  professional 
gents?" 

349 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND   MR.  PAUL 

"I  recalls/'  says  Whiskers,  "dat  in  me 
younger  days  de  class  you  speak  of  had,  on 
Broadway  and  de  Avenoo,  what  was  known 
as  a  cocktail  route." 

' 'Exactly,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "And  why? 
Such  gents  mostly  quits  woik  at  four 
o'clock.  Not  having  a  date  to  go  home  and 
take  tea  wit  deir  folks  at  five,  dat  hour  still 
finds  'em  talking  business  in  places  where 
it  is  our  curious  national  trait  dat  somebody 
must  always  be  asking,  'What  will  you 
have?'  If  men  will  go  home  from  deir 
offices  for  a  cup  of  tea,  instead  of  to  cafes  or 
clubs  for  cups  of  someting  else,  dey  '11  be 
better  acquainted  wit  deir  families,  and 
improved  in  manner  and  morals." 

"To  have  lived  to  hear  Paul  preach  re 
form,"  says  Widdy,  "makes  me  content  to 
die." 

"Oh,  his  preaching  is  n't  so  bad  as  all 
dat!"  says  Wliiskers. 

"I  did  n't  mean  it  quite  dat  way,"  she 
says.    "Now  may  I  have  my  say  about  so 
cial  revolutions,  too?" 
350 


SOME  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS 

"I  moves  magnanimous  consent,"  says 
Mr.  Paul. 

"I  refers,"  says  Widdy,  "to  de  passing 
of  de  bud  as  a  big  social  factor.  She  has 
been  a  pest.  I  see  dat  de  King  and  Queen 
of  England  is  to  make  her  go  Vay  back  and 
sit  down:  take  her  proper  place  where  she 
used  to  be." 

"And  a  very  important  place  it  was," 
says  Mr.  Paul.  "Before  de  Young  Poisson 
took  command  of  society  she  was  a  big  force 
in  art— fortifying  it  against  de  hideous  as 
saults  of  realism." 

"Bless  us!"  says  Whiskers.  "How  's 
dat?"  he  says. 

' t  Easy ! ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' <  Once,  de  mod 
est  beauty  of  de  young  unmarried  woman 
lent  sweetness  to  de  poet's  sigh,  de  musi 
cian's  strains;  brightened  de  painter's  pa 
lette  ;  softened  de  pencil  of  the  woiddy  nov 
elist.  But  can  de  poet  get  inspiration  from 
de  young  poisson  who  is  an  autority  on 
bridge  whist;  who  has  shoulders  and  arms 
like  her  brodder's;  who  answers  de  poet's 
351 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

sigh  wit  her  views  on  de  uses  of  a  niblick 
in  a  sand  bunker!" 

"Your  woids  is  nonsense,  Paul,"  says 
Widdy,  "but  your  meaning  is  good  sense. 
De  young  goil  has  boomed  into  society  lately 
at  such  a  rate  dat  plain,  old-fashioned  folks 
like  me  has  been  sent  to  de  benches.  If  de 
King  and  Queen  had  n't  put  a  stop  to  de 
nuisance  I  was  going  to  take  me  knitting 
to  de  next  ball  I  go  to  and  keep  meself  en 
gaged  making  stockings  for  caddies.  It 
was  de  only  engagement  dere  was  in  sight 
for  me." 

"Do  so,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "and  I  '11  take 
along  a  shingle  and  whittle  out  a  cup  de 
fender  for  de  Little  One." 

"You  two  doing  anyting  useful  would 
cheer  de  nations  of  de  eart, ' '  says  Whiskers. 

' '  But, ' '  says  Miss  Fannie,  '  *  when  my  lit 
tle  goil  grows  up  won't  it  be  proper  for  me 
to  take  her  to  parties?" 

"Me  dear,"  says  Mrs.  Harding,  "by  dat 
time  de  young  goil  will  be  in  command 
again.  De  question  will  be  wedder  it  is 
352 


SOME  SOCIAL  REVOLUTIONS 

proper  for  her  to  take  you  to  parties.    Don  't 
worry/'  she  says. 

Well,  soon  as  I  gets  a  chance  I  chases  to 
Duchess  to  tell  her  what  de  folks  was  gab 
bling  about.  She  likes  to  hear.  It  was  a 
great  day,  and  Duchess  had  Little  Duke  out 
in  de  grounds  letting  him  see  de  foist  rob- 
bins.  Say,  dey  is  a  chesty  boid.  So  is  Lit 
tle  Duke. 

Duchess  listens  to  me  story,  den  she  says : 
"As  for  tea,  it  is  medicine;  and  de  only 
French  what  drink  it  is  traitors— dey  loves 
de  English!  As  for  de  loidies  Mr.  Paul 
says  did  n't  wear  starched  petticoats,  dey 
was  not  French ;  so  dey  don't  count.  As  for 
young  goils  bossing  society,  dey  don't— in 
France. ' ' 

Den  I  carries  baby  in  for  her,  and  when 
I  calls  him  "kiddie"  he  gives  me  de  glad 
eye.  He  's  American,  all  right,  anyway. 
What? 


353 


XXVI 

KITCHEN  AND  OTHER 
CABINETS 


XXVI 

KITCHEN  AND   OTHER   CABINETS 

TF  de  new  Secretary  of  de  Navy  wore  eye- 
1  glasses  he  would  look  like  President 
Roosevelt, ' '  says  Whiskers,  who  was  piping 
a  picture  in  a  poiper. 

"Dat  is  part  of  de  President's  game," 
says  Mr.  Paul.  "Dis  new  cabinet  officer 
looks  like  de  President  witout  glasses,  de 
next  new  cabinet  officer  will  look  like  a  pair 
of  glasses  witout  de  President,  de  next  one 
will  look  like  a  bronco,  de  next  like  a  Rough 
Rider  hat,  de  next  like  a  book  on  'Wild  Ani 
mals  I  has  Scared  to  Beat,'  and  so  on. 
When  de  cabinet  is  all  new  de  members  will 
be  raced  past  a  given  point  at  de  rate  of 
one  hundred  yards  in  ten  seconds.  De  re 
sult  is  expected  to  please  old  and  young 
alike,  for  it  will  produce  a  moving  picture 
357 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

dat  will  look  like  de  President  out  for  a 
stroll.  In  dis  way  Mr.  Roosevelt  will  have 
a  cabinet  dat  will  be  useful  as  well  as  or 
namental.  When  de  President  wishes  for 
to  appear  in  two  places  at  one  time,  he  will 
go  to  one  himself,  and  at  de  odder  de  cabi 
net  will  appear  on  a  platform,  running 
around  in  a  soicle  as  fast  as  ever  dey  can. 
De  effect  will  be  de  same  at  bote  places,  or 
money  retoined  at  de  box  office." 

"Witout  nonsense,"  says  Miss  Fannie, 
"what  is  de  cabinet  for!" 

1 1  De  cabinet, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul,  "  is  as  much 
witout  nonsense  as  me.  De  poiposes  of  de 
cabinet  is  many.  For  instance,"  he  says, 
"one  cabinet  officer  is  busy  keeping  de  gen 
eral  of  our  army  away  from  our  war." 

"How  's  dat?"  says  Whiskers,  who  al 
ways  gets  leery  of  Mr.  Paul  when  he  talks 
of  de  gents  in  Washington. 

"It  's  dis  way,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "A  fel 
low  named  Miles  is  de  general.  It  's  no 
credit  to  him  dat  he  is — he  could  n't  help 
it.  He  never  done  notting  to  get  de  job; 
358 


KITCHEN   AND   OTHER  CABINETS 

never  done  netting,  anyway,  dat  I  ever  hears 
of,  except  to  fight  and  bleed  for  his  coun 
try.  Well,  sir,  in  de  course  of  nature,  not 
having  de  decency  to  bleed  to  deat  on  de 
several  times  he  had  de  chance,  he  lands 
at  de  head  of  de  army.  He  's  a  meddlesome 
poisson ;  and  just  because  he  knows  how  to 
fight  he  gets  tired  waiting  for  de  Philip 
pine  war  to  be  over,  so  says  he  '11  take  a 
run  down  dere,  mix  up  wit  de  scrap,  and 
end  it. 

' '  Dat  was  where  Miles  got  de  surprise  of 
his  life.  Tousands  of  patriotic  campaign 
contributors  all  over  de  country  sets  up  a 
holler,  sir,  dat  was  most  pitiful  to  hear. 
'What!'  says  dey,  'let  Miles  meddle  in  dis 
war,  and  end  it  while  we  is  selling  de  gov 
ernment  canned  beef,  flour,  shoes,  close, 
horses,  ships!  Cut  off  our  infant  contract, 
while  dere  is  a  surplus  in  de  Treasury! 
Nay,  nay ! '  dey  says. 

"So  de  cabinet  gets  togedder,  and  says: 
'Who  's  Miles?  What  State  does  he  boss? 
What  delegates  does  he  own?  What  's  dis 
359 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

fellow's  pull?  Harvard!  No.  He  was  a 
mere  hard-riding,  rough-fisted  fighter  for  de 
Union  when  he  might  have  been  at  college. 
Away  wit  him!  To  de  woods!  Him  end 
de  war!  What  for!  Has  de  army  con 
tractor  no  rights!  Well,  well!' 

"So,  sir,  dis  rude  poisson,  Miles,  gets  de 
frozen  front;  is  told  to  mind  his  business 
and  quit  getting  gay." 

"But,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "I  taut  we 
wanted  to  have  de  war  ended. ' ' 

"Me  dear  Mrs.  Burton,"  says  Mr.  Paul, 
"has  you  considered  de  consequences  of 
ending  de  war  to  once !  Why,  madam, ' '  he 
says,  "if  it  was  not  for  de  prompt  and  he 
roic  action  of  de  cabinet,  dis  impertinent 
Miles  would  have  took  a  paseo  to  our  Far 
East  neck  of  woods,  put  de  Philippine 
fighters  out  of  business,  and  been  back  in 
San  Francisco  before  General  Funston  had 
finished  telling  why  de  war  could  n't  be 
ended  so  long  as  Senator  Hoar  was  allowed 
de  privilege  of  addressing  de  Senate.  Dere 
is  mighty  little  nonsense  about  de  cabinet 
360 


KITCHEN  AND  OTHER  CABINETS 

already,  and  by  de  time  it  looks  like  a  mov 
ing  picture  of  de  President  dere  will  be  no 
nonsense  about  it  at  all." 

"I  am  glad,"  says  Whiskers,  "to  hear 
you  speak  in  dis  sensible  way  about  dat 
poisson  Miles.  I  recalls,  now  dat  you  men 
tion  him,  dat  a  former  cabinet  kept  him 
from  Cuba,  and  sent  instead  de  dignified 
Shafter  to  lead  our  army  in  de  cane-field. 
De  best  interests  of  our  country  requires 
dat  a  hustling,  fighting  general  like  Miles 
should  be  kept  away  from  war  so  long  as 
dere  is  danger  dat  de  common  people  maybe 
carried  so  far  by  deir  entusiasm  as  to  get 
up  a  ill-bred  hurrah  for  him  for  President. ' ' 

"You  speak  like  a  statesman,  sir,"  says 
Mr.  Paul.  "When  de  common  people  is 
aroused  in  de  manner  you  suggest  de  price 
of  delegates  not  only  goes  up  to  a  point  dat 
is  scandalous,  but  it  is  hard  woik  to  make 
'em  stay  bought.  Prevention  is  better,  and 
it  is  also  cheaper,  dan  cure;  and  economy 
in  delegates  lies  in  keeping  down  de  cost 
of  production. ' ' 

361 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"I  said  netting  about  cost,"  says  Whis 
kers,  getting  chesty.  * 

" Pardon  me,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "but 
was  we  not  talking  politics  f" 

'  *  Indeed  you  is, ' '  says  Miss  Fannie, '  *  and 
I  forbid  it." 

"It  would  be  all  right,"  says  Whiskers, 
'  *  if  Paul  would  n  't  pretend  to  agree  wit  me, 
and  den  switch  off  on  some  of  his  anny- 
chistic  nonsense." 

"May  we  have  some  tea?"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

Dat  was  n't  what  I  was  going  to  tell  you 
about;  but  when  our  folks  talks  what  dey 
calls  politics  I  wonders  if  dey  is  on  de  level, 
or  is  only  romping  around  de  track  for  deir 
healt.  To  listen  to  'em  you  'd  tink  dey  be 
lieved  dat  men  in  office  makes  politics,  in 
stead  of  men  in  politics  making  de  men  in 
office,  which  is  de  way  it  is  for  fair.  Lis 
ten:  de  boy  dat  rides  de  Suburban  Handi 
cap  winner  gets  carried  off  de  track  in  a 
horseshoe  of  roses.  You  Ve  seen  it  done. 
Willies  and  women  cheer  him,  sporty  lads 
buy  him  wine,  and  if  he  goes  to  de  teeater, 
362 


KITCHEN  AND   OTHER  CABINETS 

people  rubber  to  see  him  like  he  was  de 
champeen  middle-weight,  or  some  real  ting 
like  dat.  But  he  's  only  de  office-holder. 
De  horse  he  rode  was  ' i  good  politics ' ' ;  and 
de  man  what  nobody  knows,  de  trainer  who 
made  de  horse  fit  for  de  race,  who  put  de 
boy  up  on  de  back  of  de  horse— why,  he  's 
de  politician.  See! 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you:  when  dey 
gets  settled  for  tea  Miss  Fannie  says,  "We 
is  going  back  to  town." 

"Is  we?"  says  Whiskers,  histing  his  eye 
brows.  '  *  Why  ? ' '  he  says. 

"Because,"  says  she,  "aldough  I  hates  to 
live  in  town,  I  hates  woise  to  pass  all  me 
time  engaging  soivants.  I  has  to  go  where 
dey  goes." 

"I  knew  it!"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  has 
long  had  a  teeory,"  he  says,  "dat  de  big 
movements  of  peoples  and  nations,  which 
has  made  and  changed  de  maps  of  de  woild 
a  dozen  times,  was  caused  by  soivants.  I 
intend,"  he  says,  "to  write  a  book  on  de 
subject.  I  shall  prove  dat  England,  for  in- 
363 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

stance,  was  not  settled  by  half -civilized 
tribes  following  de  movements  of  wild 
game,  as  de  old  books  teaches  us,  but  by  big 
colonies  of  patient  peoples  following  de 
movements  of  deir  soivants.  De  same,"  he 
says,  "wit  Rome,  wit  Egypt.  It  was  not 
love  of  conquest,  of  gold,  of  adventure,  dat 
has  took  people  far  from  deir  own  firesides 
and  whist  clubs,  to  wander  up  and  down 
de  face  of  de  eart.  No !  it  has  been  a  taste 
for  travel  on  de  part  of  deir  soivants. ' ' 

"Dey  was  n't  like  me,  den,"  says  Wily 
Widdy.  ' i  Soivants  has  been  trying  to  force 
me  to  live  in  New  York  dese  two  or  tree 
hundred  years,  but  I  defy  'em.  I  has  a  pri 
vate  'phone  to  de  employment  office,  I  has 
set  up  a  regular  passenger  line  between  here 
and  town,  and  I  keeps  a  string  of  soivants 
coming  and  going  all  de  time.  Except  me 
own  maid  and  groom  and  gardener,  I 
has  n't  for  years  had  a  soivant  long  enough 
to  know  his  name,  or  hers.  But  I  '11  live 
where  I  want  to, ' '  she  says,  ' '  even  if  I  has 
to  starve  to  deat  to  do  it. ' ' 
364 


KITCHEN  AND   OTHER  CABINETS 

.  "You  is  braver  dan  me,"  says  Miss  Fan 
nie,  ' '  for  I  am  conquered.  I  'm  made  meek 
trying,  witout  results,  to  keep  enough  maids 
in  de  house  to  make  it  fit  to  live  in.  It  is  too 
early  in  de  season  for  'em  to  fancy  de  coun 
try,  and  dey  is  boss." 

"We  must  have  a  law  on  de  whole  class 
of  'em,"  yells  Whiskers.  "If  any  part  of 
de  United  States  is  n  't  good  enough  for  'em 
we  '11  pass  a  law  to  keep  'em  out  of  de  whole 
country. ' ' 

"We  has  a  law  now,"  chips  in  Mr.  Paul, 
quiet  like,  "what  keeps  out  some  of  de  soi- 
vant  class." 

"What  law?"  says  Whiskers. 

"Sand-lot,"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

' '  Bah ! ' '  says  Whiskers.  ' '  We  must  have 
no  laws  to  keep  soivants  out  of  de  country. ' ' 

"But,  papa!"  says  Miss  Fannie,  "you 
just  said—" 

"Never  mind  what  I  said,"  says  Whis 
kers,  getting  red.     "Paul  laid  a  trap  for 
me.    If  I  was  President  Roosevelt  I  would 
lasso  all  de  Congressmen  who  is  trying  to 
365 


CHIMMIB   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

pass  more  anti- Chinese  laws,  and  drag  'em. 
all  to  jail." 

"De  Chinese  must  go!"  says  Mr.  Paul. 

'  *  Dey  must  come ! ' '  says  Whiskers.  ' '  We 
needs  about  two  or  tree  millions  of  'em  to 
settle  de  soivant  question.  Can  we  have 
'em?  No.  Why!  Laws!  De  whole  soi- 
vant-employing  class  of  dis  wretched  coun 
try,"  he  says,  "is  de  victim  of  a  phrase— 
'Chinese  cheap  labor.'  It  is  all  a  wicked 
case  of  give  a  dog  a  bad  name." 

"But  Chinese  labor  is  bad  for  de  coun 
try,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  has  a  fren  in  Cali 
fornia  who  lost  his  seat  in  Congress  be 
cause  he  saved  his  vineyard  wit  Chinese 
labor." 

"Don't  talk  to  me  of  California,"  says 
Whiskers.  "I  own  land  dere.  Dat  unfor 
tunate  State  is  fifty  xears  behind  what  it 
ought  to  be  for  lack  of  Chinese  labor.  Ev 
erybody  but  de  Sand-lotters  wants  Chinese. 
Dey  is  docile,  capable,  and  cheap." 

"Sir,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "dis  is  annaky! 
Has  de  Scandihoovian,  coming  to  our  hos- 
366 


KITCHEN  AND   OTHER   CABINETS 

pitable  shores  at  de  rate  of  tousands  a  day, 
no  rights  as  American  citizens0?  Dey  is  not 
docile,  but  obstreperous.  Dat  's  what  we 
need  for  de  strenuous  life  of  de  kitchen. 
Dey  is  incapable.  So  much  de  better.  De 
more  incapable  dey  is,  de  more  of  'em  we 
requires  to  do  de  woik.  Dey  is  not  cheap, 
but  we  want  no  cheap  labor  dat  can't  vote. 
Tink,"  he  says,  "of  de  tousands  of  Scandi- 
hoovian  toddlers  at  home  in  Scandihoovia ! 
Dey  all  expects  to  come  here  when  dey  is 
grown  up  and  get  twenty  dollars  a  mont, 
wit  board  and  lodging,  for  dusting  de  par 
lor  furniture." 

"For  not  dusting  it,"  says  Miss  Fannie. 

"Very  well,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  "for  not 
dusting  it.  Would  you,  sir,  blight  deir  fu 
ture  by  importing  a  horde  of  Chinese  who 
would  dust  it  for  ten  dollars  a  mont?  Per 
ish  de  taut!"  he  says.  "De  principles  of 
protection— 

"Politics!"  cries  Miss  Fannie. 

"It  was  Paul's  fault,"  says  Whiskers. 
"He  gives  a  political  twist  to  everything." 
367 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.   PAUL 

* '  If  ever  I  says  anodder  woid, ' '  says  Mr. 
Paul,  "may  I—" 

"Have  a  cup  of  tea,"  says  Miss  Fannie. 

When  I  tells  Duchess  what  de  folks  was 
talking,  she  taut  awhile,  den  she  says, 
'  *  M  'sieu  Paul  is  right, ' '  she  says.  t '  If  Miss 
Fannie  could  had  all  de  Chinese  soivants 
she  wants  down  here  we  would  not  be  going 
back  to  town  next  week. " 

"What  's  de  answer?"  I  says. 

"It  is,"  she  says,  "dat  I  wishes  to  do 
some  short-close  shopping  in  town  next 
week,  and  now  dat  we  has  de  baby  I  could 
not  shop  in  town  unless  we  all  moves  in." 

' l  Sure, ' '  I  says.  "  If  it  's  up  to  shopping 
for  de  kiddie  de  Chinese  must  stay  gone." 

Say,  de  Little  Duke  is  great !  He  's  going 
into  short  close  pretty  soon,  and  den  I  '11 
get  a  set  of  boxing-gloves  for  him.  What! 


368 


XXVII 
EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS 


XXVII 
EDUCATION  AND   PROPOSALS 

CHAMES,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  handing  me 
a  pair  of  boxing-mitts,  "let  us  toin 
our  minds  to  de  cause  of  higher  education. 
Let  us, ' '  he  says,  holding  out  his  hands  for 
me  to  lace  his  mitts,  "let  us  adorn  our 
brows  with  de  laurels  of  Pure  Reason:  no 
hitting  in  clinches,  two-minute  rounds,  two 
minutes'  rest;  for  de  tea-drink  habit  has 
made  me  fat,  and  scant  of  breat.  Time!" 
he  says. 

Well,  we  gets  togedder  wit  our  mitts,  and 
mixes  up  pretty  lively ;  but  in  de  two  min 
utes  '  rest  he  caught  enough  breat  to  go  on 
wit  his  talk. 

"I  has  obsoived,"  he  says,  "dat  de  grand 
revival  of  academic  training  has  struck  a 
new  gait  dat  beats  de  limit.     De  deciples 
371 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND    MR.  PAUL 

of  Sophy  Glees  and  Sock  Tees  would  look 
like  farm-hands  at  a  spelling-bee  alongside 
de  youts  of  our  fair  land  in  dis  present 
year  of  grace. ' ' 

"What  's  happened  'em?"  I  says. 

"Dey  is  fired  by  a  boining  yoining  for 
education, ' '  he  says,  ' '  dat  de  floods  of  Har 
lem  River  could  not  quench.  Already, ' '  he 
says,  dere  is  a  movement  for  Pennsy  to  row 
at  New  London,  for  Harvard  to  row  wit 
Cornell  on  Lake  Cayuga.  De  salaries  of 
good  rowing  coaches  has  gone  up  so  high 
dat  several  professors  of  higher  mat'matics 
has  gone  into  training  for  de  job  of  coach. 
Columbia  is  said  to  have  a  new  left  tackle 
dat  could  put  a  runaway  trolley-car  out  of 
business;  at  Princeton  de  midnight  oil  is 
consumed  by  large  parties  of  undergradu 
ates,  toasting  a  new  pitcher  dat  can  put  a 
coived  ball  trough  a  two-inch  plank.  De 
University  of  California  has  a  broad- 
jumper  what  does  n't  have  to  take  de  ferry 
from  Berkeley  to  San  Francisco— he  jumps 
de  bay !  From  all  our  seats  of  learning, ' '  he 
372 


EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS 

says,  "comes  woid  dat  de  onward  march  of 
intellectual  life  has  put  its  hand  to  de  plow : 
wit  swords  leaping  from  scabbards  and  de 
trottle  trun  wide  open,  all  sail  is  clapped 
on,  and,  springing  from  crag  to  crag,  de 
soaring  flight  of  mental  progress  wins  in  a 
walk!  Time!"  he  says. 

We  gets  togedder  for  de  second  round, 
and  I  lands  a  lovely  upper  progress  on  his 
jaw,  but  he  counters  wit  a  intellectual  jolt 
on  me  ribs  dat  made  me  glad  de  rounds  was 
a  minute  shy  of  Queensberry  rules. 

"I  suppose,"  says  Mr.  Paul,  when  we 
stops  study  to  recite,  "I  suppose  dat  de 
recent  remark  of  a  Fourhundredess  dat  no 
mug  can  be  a  gent  dat  has  not  had  a  college 
education,  has  give  a  mighty  impetus  to  dis 
glorious  revival  of  letters." 

Say,  since  Mr.  Paul  has  got  de  five- 
o'clock-tea  habit  his  langwudge  is  getting 
woise  and  woise.  I  taut  he  was  de  limit  for 
woids  when  he  was  playing  de  small-bottle 
game,  but  he  was  a  dumb  waiter  den  along 
side  de  langwudge  he  sports  now.  Sure ! 
373 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN   AND    MR.  PAUL 

''Let  us  consider,"  he  says,  "why  it  is 
dat  to  be  a  real  gent  a  man  must  have  a 
college  education.  When  Prince  Henry 
launched  de  Geezer's  yacht  de  gents  what 
partook  of  de  launching  lunch  likewise  par 
took  of  all  de  china  and  silver.  Could  dey 
have  done  it  if  dey  had  not  been  college 
trained!  No.  De  ungentlemanly  caterer, 
and  his  hundred  waiters,  made  a  desperate 
defense  of  de  spoons  and  plates,  but,  alas! 
dey  had  no  college  training.  De  gents 
smashed  trough  deir  center,  tore  deir  de 
fense  to  tatters,  and,  wit  a  superior  knowl 
edge  of  de  game,  swiped  all  de  silverware, 
crockery,  and  napkins,  leaving  de  ungen 
tlemanly  caterer  a  bankrupt." 

And  dat  's  no  joke,  too. 

In  de  toid  round  I  gets  in  a  genteel  jab 
over  Mr.  Paul's  heart,  and  den  swings  a 
wise  right  at  his  neck,  but  he  blocks  it  like 
a  gentleman,  and  puts  bote  mitts  on  me  face 
like  a  bachelor  of  arts.  I  clinched  to  save 
me  Pure  Reason  from  getting  bote  eyes 
closed,  and  sparred  a  bit  for  wind,  and  to 
374 


EDUCATION   AND   PROPOSALS 

tink  how  could  I  put  his  intellectuals  out 
of  business  before  he  'd  rapped  me  coco  off:' 
me  shoulders.  I  made  a  bluff  at  a  high- 
minded  lead  for  his  peepers,  and,  when  he 
had  his  hooks  up  to  block,  I  trun  in  a  real 
saucy  punch  to  his  solo  plexer.  Dat  dis 
missed  de  class. 

When  Mr.  Paul  got  wind  enough  to  go 
on  wit  his  game  of  talk  he  says:  "It  is  to 
de  bad,  Chames,  dat  you  has  settled  in  life 
as  a  gentleman's  man.  If  fate  had  provided 
a  college  education  for  you,  added  to  de 
force  and  character  of  your  blows,  notting 
could  kept  you  out  of  de  highest  soicles  of 
society.  Did  you  land  dat  last  expression 
of  your  gentility  wit  your  left  hand  or  your 
right!  I  do  not  appear  to  have  been  look 
ing.  But  do  not  indulge, ' '  he  says,  ' '  in  vain 
regrets.  If  your  son  grows  up  as  willing 
as  you  to  take  a  punch  in  order  to  give  one, 
he  will  be  de  foist  gentleman  in  de  land, 
provided  you  keep  him  out  of  society  and 
odder  mischief  until  he  is  well  known  as  a 
middle-weight. ' ' 

375 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

' '  Tank  you,  sir, ' '  I  says.  "  I  'm  teaching 
him  his  manners,  and  already  he  has  quite 
a  notion  of  boxing,"  I  says.  "What  col 
lege  is  you  and  Mr.  Van  Courtlandt  going 
to  send  him  to?"  I  says. 

"We  must  not  make  up  our  minds  too 
soon,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "In  sixteen  or  sev 
enteen  years  de  forum  of  belles-lettres  may 
change  its  base.  De  Wisconsin  crew  is  al 
ready  doing  good  woik;  California  has  a 
track  team  dat  keeps  de  odder  universities 
on  de  anxious  seat.  Witin  a  period  of  writ 
ten  history  de  center  of  gravity  has  moved 
from  Greece  to  Boston.  Tings  gets  a  swifter 
move  on  in  dese  days.  By  de  time  your  son 
is  prepared  for  academic  honors  Ann  Arbor 
or  Chicago  may  have  developed  a  system  of 
philosophy  what  Sullivan  nor  Corbett  never 
dreamed  of.  Let  us  wait  wit  minds  open  to 
every  invention.  In  de  near  future  gents 
may  be  wholly  machine-made;  and  present 
professors  of  deadly  langwudges  merrily 
keep  punching-bags  in  order,  oil  row-locks, 
inflate  foot-balls,  and  odderwise  promote 
academic  activities. ' ' 

376 


EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS 

My,  my!  but  Mr.  Paul  is  a  corker  at  de 
game  of  talk.  I  'in  no  farmer  at  copping 
his  woids,  but  sometimes  a  slice  of  his  lang- 
wudge  is  too  rich  for  me  coco.  Den  I  makes 
good  wit  me  own  woids  in  straight  English, 
so  you  don't  miss  any  of  his  meaning.  See ? 

I  was  telling  you  about  us  moving  back 
into  town  till  de  wedder  gets  warm  enough 
in  de  country  to  suit  de  soivants.  We  is 
here.  .  We  Ml  just  about  get  settled,  and 
tings  moving  along  like  a  rubber- wheeled 
ambulance,  when  we  Ml  all  hike  back  to  de 
long  grass  again.  Wily  Widdy  won't  have 
no  town  house,  and  only  skips  in  for  little 
visits.  When  we  chases  in  Miss  Fannie 
gives  Widdy  a  invite  to  come  along  wit  us 
for  a  week.  But  Widdy  says,  "Nay,  nay." 

"I  can't  stand  for  de  city,  Fannie,"  she 
says.  "De  only  ting  wort  while  doing  in 
de  city,"  she  says,  "is  to  go  to  de  coun 
try.  Anyway,"  she  says,  "I  belong  to  de 
outdoor  poor.  Everyting  I  likes  is  done  out 
of  doors,  and  de  country  is  just  getting  fit 
for  living.  Roads  are  right  now  for  riding 
and  driving,  golf-links  has  been  rolled, 
377 


CHIMMIE  FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

tennis-nets  stretched,  yachts  will  soon  be  in 
commission.  De  city  is  only  to  shop  in,  and 
I  'm  too  poor  to  shop.  I  can't  see,  Fan 
nie,"  she  says,  "why  your  f adder  does  n't 
marry  me,  and  take  de  worry  of  poverty 
off  me  mind.  I  'd  let  him  give  you  twenty 
tousand  a  year,  and  wit  de  twenty  tousand 
Burton  left  you,  you  ought  to  get  along,  for 
you  are  a  economical  body." 

i 'Why  don't  you  ask  papa?"  says  Miss 
Fannie.  "He  's  de  best-natured  man  in  de 
woild,  and  not  likely  to  refuse  a  loidy  any- 
ting  in  reason." 

"Ask  him!"  says  Widdy.  "Why,  me 
dear  child ! ' '  she  says,  ' i  I  Ve  asked  him  two 
or  tree  times  a  year  dese  last  four  years. 
Not  in  so  many  woids,  you  know,  but  he 
poifectly  understands. ' ' 

"I  did  n't  suppose  he  could  be  so  hard 
hearted,"  says  Miss  Fannie,  wit  a  smile. 

1  i  He  's  no  harder-hearted  dan  his  daugh 
ter,"  says  Widdy. 

"  No  ? "  Miss  Fannie  says,  like  she  did  n  't 
tumble. 

378 


EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS 

"No!"  says  Widdy.  She  was  smiling, 
too,  but  all  de  same  she  was  looking  sharp 
to  see  did  Miss  Fannie  have  her  guard  up, 
for  dey  was  sparring  just  as  hard  as  Mr. 
Paul  and  me  does.  "No,  for  you  refuses 
a  standing  offer  every  day, ' '  she  says. 

"Perhaps  I  'm  like  papa/'  says  Miss 
Fannie.  "I  may  not  be  bright  enough  to 
understand  proposals  witout  woids." 

"Oh,  lordy!"  says  Widdy,  "de  man  can 
talk  enough!  Dere  would  be  no  lack  of 
woids  if  you  showed  a  sign  dat  he  would  be 
accepted  if  he  proposed. ' ' 

"Do  you  judge  from  papa!"  says  Miss 
Fannie.  "Does  he  show  no  sign  dat  he  is 
unwilling  to  hear  your  proposal  in  so  many 
wolds?" 

Say,  I  taut  tings  was  getting  radder  in 
timate;  but  dey  talks  right  out  in  front  of 
me,  bote  smiling  and  kind  of  watching  each 
odder.  But  fine-haired  dames  like  dat  pair 
is  too  implicated— what  's  dat?  Yes,  com 
plicated—for  yours  truly.  I  taut  dey  would 
switch  deir  wire  when  de  gents  comes  in— 
379 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

dis  was  at  five  o'clock— but  de  foist  ting  dat 
Miss  Fannie  says,  when  she  pours  tea  for 
Whiskers  and  Mr.  Paul,  was,  "Mrs.  Hard 
ing  and  me  has  been  talking  of  manners  of 
proposing  marriage. ' ' 

"It  is  a  subject  I  has  long  give  deep  taut 
on,'7  says  Mr.  Paul.  "I  has  in  mind  writ 
ing  a  book  on  de  manner  of  proposal  among 
all  people :  bote  civilized  people  and  happy 
people.  Among  a  soitain  tribe  of  Nort- 
American  Indian,  when  a  squaw  has  made 
up  her  mind  she  asks  de  happy  buck  of  her 
choice  to  put  a  ring  in  her  nose." 

"Very  much  de  same  in  our  set,"  says 
Widdy,  "only  dat  de  ring  is  put  in  de  man's 


nose.' 


"True,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "But  in  one 
case  de  ring  is  visible,  yet  inflicts  no  pain; 
in  de  odder  case  de  ring  is  invisible,  yet— 

"What  odder  customs  has  you  ob- 
soivedf"  says  Whiskers,  chipping  in. 

"Among  de  shepherd  class  of  Tibet," 
says  Mr.  Paul,  "woman  selects  two  or  tree 
men,  and  marries  'em  all  alive." 
380 


EDUCATION  AND  PROPOSALS 

"I  taut  it  was  boiling  'em  alive  in  oil," 
says  Miss  Fannie. 

' '  No, ' '  says  Mr.  Paul.  ' '  Dat  practice  we 
find  among  a  more  advanced  people,  far- 
der  East.  It  is  a  reform  of  de  Tibetan  cus 
tom,  and  was  brought  about  by  de  Society 
for  de  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Husbands. 
In  our  new  possessions,  in  de  far  fair  East, 
some  of  our  adopted  fellow-citizens  marry 
deir  women  slaves  before  dey  sells  'em. ' ' 

"A  reversal  of  our  citizens'  custom  of 
buying  deir  slaves  before  dey  marry  'em," 
says  Widdy.  "Go  on,  Paul.  Your  book 
will  sell." 

"I  hope  so,"  he  says.  "I  shall  make  an 
educational  drama  of  it,  also,  for  de  uplift 
ing  of  de  stoige.  I  am  much  interested  in 
de  law  among  a  curious  people  of  Africa. 
Dere,  a  man  in  love  must  not  say  a  woid  till 
he  gets  some  sign  from  de  object  of  his  de 
votion  dat  he  will  be  accepted  if  he  pro 
poses." 

"What  is  de  punishment  if  he  breaks  dat 
law!"  says  Miss  Fannie.    "Is  it  deat? 
381 


* ' 


CHIMMIE   FADDEN  AND   MR.  PAUL 

"Woise  dan  deal,"  says  Mr.  Paul.  "He 
is  banished  from  her  society  forever." 

When  I  tells  Duchess  about  Mr.  Paul's 
funny  stories  she  taut  awhile,  den  she  says, 
"M'sieu  Paul  is  right  not  to  propose  of  a 
suddenness.  If  he  does  Miss  Fannie  might 
say  'No,'  den  of  a  soitainty  he  would  ban 
ished  be." 

' '  On  your  way ! "  I  says.  *  *  Dey  was  talk 
ing  about  a  tribe  of  Africa  coons. ' ' 

' '  Folks  like  ours, ' '  says  Duchess,  ' '  some 
times  of  Africa  talks,  when  it  is  of  tings 
nearer  home  dey  is  tinking. ' ' 

I  wonder  was  Duchess  right!  Was  Miss 
Fannie  and  Mr.  Paul  kind  of  sparking, 
when  dey  says  dose  tings  about  proposing! 
I  don't  know.  I  'm  not  wise  on  woids, 
except  dose  dat  means  just  what  dey  says. 
But  Duchess  is  a  wise  goil.  Sure. 


382 


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